Stardust
by Handy-for-the-bus
Summary: On a small Island in Scotland an injured soldier returns home to heal his body and soul, but little does he know that his recovery is in the hands of an unknown friend. Begins in the Summer of 1945.
1. Coming Home

_**A/N:** New Multi-Chapter! This was an idea for an one shot at first, and then, my lovely and loyal and wonderful Terriejane gave the idea for a multi-chapter and I have to tell you all, it's been so much fun to put it into words. It's also my first sort of modern story, and I am trying to get the hang of it, as I always write period ones. __I will try to update every Friday._

 _I hope you all enjoy this story as much I am enjoying writing it._

 _ **Disclaimer:** Downton Abbey's characters belong to Julian Fellowes. _

* * *

_-_ ** _Coming Home_** _-_

 _The screams of pain coming from his wounded compatriots surrounded him as he lay in the rain and mud...and blood._ _He tried to crawl back into safety, but here safety was something long lost. He called for help and he was answered with shots and more cries, and now thunder, and in that moment he prayed for his death to come fast and sure. In that moment he thought of home, his mother, his late father... and her…_

 _He trembled, freezing. His tears mixed with rain, and his heart racing in his chest. He heard someone calling his name, over and over again but he was now too weak to even answer back. So he laid_ _there_ _, ready for that bright light everyone talks about to take him, but not before one last look...one last glimpse of her. From an inside pocket of his uniform he_ _pulled out_ _the photograph his mother had sent him some months ago and he let himself admire her one more time, to dream of this woman he had never met. This woman who was unknown to him but already_ _a presence_ _in his life...for one last time he smiled at her photograph and slowly, gently, his eyes closed and he slept._

 _And there he laid in the mud and rain and blood with her picture clutched tight in his hand and her image burned into his memory, waiting to die._

 **xxxx**

The ferry was fast on the water, its movements reminding him much of the airplanes he had flew many months before, the feeling made him sick to his stomach, and he tried his best to distance himself from those memories. His mother would be waiting for him and he was more than glad for that. He missed home, after all these years. Years of heartbreak and loneliness...he really needed to find his roots again, and maybe stay forever. He had been happy there when he was a child, why couldn't he be happy there again? Maybe his mistake was to have left for someone who didn't deserve such sacrifice.

He sighed, looking down at his cane. A new friend he had made in the past few weeks. A new friend he would rather not have met at all. But war has a funny way of introducing new situations to people, and gladly, for him, he had only been introduced to an injury, and most likely, he would get better with time. Still, he was a proud man and people stared. Even now, as the smell of the ocean invaded his lungs and he looked around to see only one man travelling with him, he felt ashamed. For almost five years he fought for his country, and then, he let himself make the stupidest mistake a soldier can. Every night he would recall that early morning, and every night he would declare himself a stupid, stupid man. _Turning_ _your back_ _to_ _your enemy? You knew better than that, John Bates. And now you are paying for it._

He stood up from his seat and walked towards the hold. Oh yes...he had missed this. The spray of the ocean, the wind on his face, no threats on the horizon…he had travelled the world, while fighting, but this, this was different. This was peace, home, shelter. Here he would get his life back, or … what was left of it, and then he saw it: _his_ island. The place where he had grown up and became a man. The most beautiful place he had ever seen. Why did he leave in the first place? He didn't know, or better...he didn't want to remember. All he knew was that he had been a fool, but those times were in the past. He was different now, and he smiled. A whale could been seen underneath the clear water and tears came to his eyes. He wouldn't be leaving...now he was sure.

 **xxxx**

'Mrs. Bates?!' she called as she opened the door, her son by her hand, the clock hitting four o'clock. 'We are home!'

There was silence in return and she tapped her forehead, remembering what was about to happen. 'Johnny, darling, go wash your hands, I'm going to fix you something to eat.'

'Yes mummy!' the five year old ran to the bathroom eager to have his after school snack.

Mrs. Bates was probably at the docks by now waiting for her son. Anna bit her bottom lip nervously and looked around sighing, before going to the kitchen.

John Bates was arriving. A man she had never met but in photographs and his mother's tales. A man she could sense was good and very much like his own mother, but she was apprehensive. What if all the wonders she had heard about him came from pure biased mother's lips? She knew how mothers could be, she was one. What if he didn't like her being there? What if he found her son annoying...maybe he didn't like children. He had been married after all, and he was childless. He was a writer too. Writers are reclusive and not very sociable at all...maybe she wouldn't even talk to him that much anyway. She prefered it that way if he proved to be an odd fellow.

She warmed up the milk and toasted some bread on the stove and called her son. The boy sat down at the table and began to eat with all the satisfaction he could possible show, and she couldn't help but chuckle.

'You eat everything without making a mess...mummy will be right back.'

Johnny nodded smiling and Anna left the kitchen, walking through the wide corridor of the Bateses cottage that led to the stairs, but before she could make herself climb them, she stopped, glancing towards the parlour. For a moment she stood there, one of her hands on the handrail and her breathing suddenly quite calm.

When she moved again, she walked in the opposite direction she was going in the first place, entering the parlour and approaching Mrs Bates' memory table; the older woman would often call it that. An old table that had belonged to her very own mother and now held her prized possessions, with photographs of her son and late husband. Instantly, Anna reached for one of John's photographs, one taken in his early thirties, and she stared at it.

Many a sleepless night, Anna had come down the stairs to sit in this very room with this same photograph in her hands. Something about him made her feel at ease, and somehow she felt she had known him for a lifetime. He had such a fierce look in his eyes, as if his life would be more than just common, and his smile...well, his smile was sure, sure and defiant and reassuring at the same time, and for a moment she lost herself in that photo, as she had before, on so many countless nights. She was being silly, she thought. How could he be anything other than a good man? True, one can't judge someone by looks alone but then, a woman like Margaret Bates, who was so kind and loving, could only have raised a man with morals and values, like herself. And she was right. John Bates was much like his mother, his late father too, for both parents were an example for their community; hard workers, people true to their word, people others would turn to in times of need and distress. Their son couldn't be any different, and he wouldn't be.

 **xxxx**

'John, my darling boy!' Mrs Bates ran to her son's arms as soon as she saw him stepping on land. His mother was rather petite, in comparison to him, and she was quite round, but a mother's arms are always wide enough to embrace her children on their arrival, and even wider when the reasons for their returning were this grave. She had almost lost him to war and now he was home again. She had already lost her husband, one of her men, and she couldn't have survived it if the same would have happened to the remaining one. 'My boy!' she said tearily as she stepped back to take a good look at him. 'Look at you...you haven't been sleeping, have you? And you're skin and bones!'

'Mother,' John chuckled trying his best not to look too embarrassed. 'You're exaggerating. I have been eating well.'

'Not sleeping though...sleep is as important as eating, y'know. But don't you worry, you can sleep and eat all you want in mum's home.'

'I know mother...I know,' he smiled tenderly at her.

'How's your leg? I asked Jephery to drive me here, he's waiting for us - Oh look there he is! Jephery! Take his luggage please...he's not that fit yet.'

'Mother please,' John whispered, feeling self conscious. 'I've brought my bag all the way, I can manage.'

'Of course you can!' his mother looked at him almost offended. 'But you are here to rest...' she then told him with a decisive look on her face.

'Hello, John! Welcome back to our little isle.' The deeply tanned man placed the stub of a cigarette between his lips and held his hand out to greet him. 'Many years since.'

'Indeed, Jeph! I thought I was going to see you at...' John stopped himself, not waiting to remember those times, but somehow he always managed to talk about it, even against his own will.

'Do you forget I am blind from me left eye? Lucky fellow, I am, if you ask...I wouldn't last long I tell ya...fisherman all my life. I wasn't made for guns, only pipes and nets, and me cigarettes.'

John nodded with a constrained smile on his face before giving his bag to Jeph.

'Are you sure you can drive well enough? I mean...' he grimaced. _The eye._

'Ah! Have you forgotten? There's ten people living here and nine of them don't drive.' Jeph laughed heartily and his cheery mood did well enough in lifting John's spirit a bit. With that, the ruddy fisherman turned the motor on and with rather dodgy driving, half bumping, half swearing, they were able to arrive home, safe and sound.

The old cottage was still exactly the same where the ocean embraced the land, connected to the old lighthouse. The same lighthouse his father had maintained for so many years, and now his mother. _Poor Mother_ , John thought. _All those stairs_...but she liked it. It helped her to keep memories alive, she would often tell him.

'And here we are.' Mrs. Bates sighed, very pleased. 'In the place where you truly belong.'

John looked over at his mother and smiled. Indeed she was right.

'The bicycles are here,' she pointed out. 'Anna and Johnny must be home already.' And then he gulped. Anna Smith, the teacher and his mother's most beloved lodger, and the only one, truth to be told.

Mrs. Bates letters were always full of little stories about Anna, little peculiarities, about Anna's boy too, but mostly, she would write about the new teacher's qualities. His mother had sent him a photograph of her once, _that_ photograph.

At first, he had shaken his head at his mother's less than subtle ways, but then...he found himself staring at it, often at night, when sleep was so illusive and difficult to catch. He would trace her features and imagine how soft her hair would be. Her eyes spoke to him, and when he was crying for his life, a bullet ripping through his knee and praying to a God he didn't believe, he found comfort there. Bright eyes that seemed to be looking back at him through the picture, eyes that told him to be strong, that soon he would be home...that he would meet her there. He didn't believe them at first, preferring to let himself drown in her image as he waited for death to claim him...only knowing how right they had been when he woke up in a hospital some days later.

His mother opened the front door then, and called Anna's name, announcing their arrival, and in that moment he took a deep breath before entering. Both for the young woman and to be home. For one, he was nervous, for the other, relieved.

'Where are you, Anna?' Mrs. Bates called again, walking down the corridor to the kitchen.

John thanked Jeph and took his bag, limping his way further in the house. So many memories there, so many happy times in his life. The smell took him back to his childhood. Probably the last time he was happy was here, really...he didn't remember much about happiness in any other way.

Suddenly, he saw a shadow on the wall, coming from the parlour, and he looked ahead.

Bright blue eyes looking straight at him. Her blonde hair cascading down her shoulders and an apron around her waist. She was smiling at him and he froze.

'I am Anna...the local teacher.' she offered him her hand in greeting and he accepted, taking his cane in his left hand as he did so.

'And I'm John Bates...the new lodger.' They both chuckled at his words.

'Oh! I see you've met!' Mrs. Bates came from behind Anna, grinning. 'Where's Johnny?'

Anna took a moment to answer as she observed him with tentative eyes. Mrs. Bates had said the night before her son would probably arrive with a rather emaciated look on his face, skinny and weak, but that's not what Anna saw now. She saw a tall man, much taller than she thought he would be, and presenting a broad frame. Ample shoulders and very well built...if food in hospitals was that bad, he certainly wasn't a proof of it. 'He's...he's playing outside with Macbeth,' she answered her eyes finding him once again.

'Oh my, that dog is Johnny's best friend I tell you..I'll take your bag now, son. Give it to me.'

His mother tried to take it from his hand but he stepped back. 'I'll do it, mother. Thank you.'

'You shouldn't climb all those stairs carrying weights...not just yet.'

'Mother please, I can manage,' he tried to hide his embarrassment with an awkward smile.

'Of course you can,' Anna replied instinctively. 'I have tea ready and there's fresh bread...if you're hungry.'

'Thank you.' He spoke softly, lingering in her eyes for a moment more before going to his room, and as he climbed the stairs he heard his mother telling Anna that they would get along just fine. ' _You will like my John, you'll see.'_

He smiled.

Once in his room, he rested his bag on his old bed, sighing as he did so, and walking towards the window; an instinctive action he always had in here. From there, he could see the ocean, dark blue, the sun ready to set, and seagulls flying madly around the fishing boats. He opened the window then, breathing in the salty cold air, filling his lungs to the brim, and hoping that he could find everything that he longed for in his life right here. Inspiration and recovery. He needed to get back to his work again. Being a writer wasn't easy, even worse for those without ideas.

Many people would find their words during explosions and between cadavers. Scribbling verses of pain and longing. War birthed many poets but for him, it had taken away everything that he had left. Sometimes he wondered if his soul still remained in his body and often he would doubt it did. War certainly had scared him deeper than he would admit...even to himself, on dark and sweaty nights, when nightmares would haunt him like demons. He would tell himself he was all right, that was all in the past, but those were lies. Filthy lies.

He walked towards the bed and sat down beside his bag, opening it. He wasn't going to unpack right now, but he wondered if he needed something. He was in need of a change, a good wash as well, and then he saw it: her photograph, lying proudly atop his neatly folded clothes and he gave a small unsure smile, before hearing his door creaking slowly.

His attention was distracted from the picture when he saw two big eyes looking back at him. Blue eyes just like hers, fair face, curious expression. He closed his bag immediately.

'Hello.' John talked to the boy. 'I presume you are Johnny...am I right?'

The boy came in the room but only nodded shyly, and John smiled.

'Is there anything I can help with you?' he asked, trying to make the boy speak.

'Mrs. Bates said to say...they're waiting for tea.'

'All right.' he stood from his bed and walked towards the boy. 'Shall we go down then?'

Johnny nodded again. 'We have the same name,' he pointed down as they climbed down the stairs.

'I've noticed that...'

 **xxxx**

Anna raced her son to school the next morning, and although she would always let her Johnny win, today, she was doing terribly bad without even trying. After tea yesterday, John had gone to his room and stayed there all night, and this morning he was still there when she left home for work. How curious she was about him! Too curious. She had at first felt unsure and almost frightened about his presence, and now that he was here she couldn't wait to meet him properly. To talk to him. From what his mother always told her, he was a very intelligent man, not very talkative though. She knew he was more a watcher than a player but that was what made her mind wander. He was a writer, and she had read his books. She had them on her nightstand and she loved all of them. He had a way with written words. So much passion and ferocity...she only prayed that he could get all that back now.

That's why she had told her son the night before that he shouldn't bother Mr. Bates in his room, or ever really. Some people like to be alone, they like their privacy and kept themselves to themselves, she knew that.

'I won again, Mummy!' Johnny shouted at his mother as he tried to regain his breath.

'You are becoming faster and faster, my darling.' she smiled tiredly, hopping off her bicycle before placing a sloppy kiss on his flushed cheek. 'I will never win now...come on, let's go. Everyone's there already.'

'Good morning, children!' she greeting her students, walking to her desk while Johnny found his place in the classroom.

'Good morning, Miss Smith.'

'Are you all excited for today? Our last day of school!'

 **xxxx**

John almost fell asleep in the tub, when he heard Macbeth barking outside. He rubbed his eyes with damp hands and ran his fingers through his hair. Last night had been strange. He felt good here but sleep was still impossible to come by, and even though he had tried his best to remain in bed, still and resting only his body, he was terribly tired today.

Climbing from the tub and wrapping a towel around his waist, he began to cover his face in soap, ready for a nice shave. His reflection in the mirror made him shiver...a man that was almost a stranger to him now. The last time he had been here, he was in his mid thirties. He had dreams and aspirations back then, someone waiting for him in the capital and a craving for life, for the future. Now, he was empty of everything.

He shook his head then. Such thoughts would do him no good. He should think about that young John Bates and act as confident as he did. Yes. He was here now, he was home. The razor was sharp and its cut clean and pleasing, and he smiled as his face became clean. Today he would go out and he would wander around like he did before.

After dressing he exited the bathroom, ready to go downstairs and grab something to eat. His mother had brought him a tray last night, and he was now starving, but before he could reach for the stairs, something caught his attention.

The door was opened and his books were sitting proudly on the nightstand. He recognised the covers and walked in, without thinking twice. He reached for the table and touched them, fruits of his past work, in a time where he actually had a gift. One of them was marked about halfway through and he picked it up.

'Stardust.' he whispered.

The last book he wrote…the beginning of everything.

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 _ **Next Chapter:** John sat on the hilltop overlooking the sea, a notebook and pen in hand. Nothing came to mind, nothing except Anna._

 ** _Thank you for reading!_**

 ** _Please review and let me know what you think of this new story :)_**


	2. Coincidences

_**A/N:** I just started posting this fic but I can already feel the love! Thank you all so much for your support, it means a lot to me. _

_I hope you all enjoy this second chapter as much as the first._

 _ **Disclaimer:** Same as chapter 1. _

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_**\- Coincidences -**_

The days passed and meals were the only time that John's presence was felt in the house. He had proven himself to be everything Anna had imagined he'd be. A loner, a watcher, and always so silent. The sound of his cane the only sign he was in the house.

Mrs. Bates didn't bother her son much, trying her best to make him comfortable in this new way of his. New to her, not to him. She had confided in Anna some worries; John was different now. He was lost. The light on his eyes was faint and flickering like a candle in a storm, ready to be extinguished with the very next blow of wind. His smiles were weak and the lines on his face showed pain, sorrow, regret...his words were few and only when needed.

But Anna could feel him observing everything, almost surgically, and their eyes would meet on many occasions, even when she least expected, mostly, when she least expected. His guarded eyes, fast at averting from hers as soon as she found him staring. Eyes that held so many mysteries, questions, doubts but at the same time so much tenderness. The light was faint, yes, but the little that shone had a lifetime of powerful feelings that he had felt once in the past...that he would begin to feel once again, with every glimpse of her. What made her more curious though, was how hard he tried to hide everything he felt...what she wanted to know, truly, was what had made such a strong looking man feel so shaken, so shaken to the core, so frightened of meaningful smiles.

Anna wanted to know more but John offered little, and with everyday it seemed that the comfort of their _good mornings_ and _goodnights_ were all they would get from each other, and for her, that was not nearly enough.

Meanwhile, Johnny spent the first three days of summer holidays playing with his school mates and Macbeth, the faithful dog. Mrs. Bates had the lighthouse, her beloved sewing and old friends to visit for a good and casual gossip. John would leave the house for his daily walks and be gone for hours, a book and a pen in his hand, his cane in the other. He would stay awake until late at night, nightmares and thoughts occupying his mind as old and faithful friends.

And now, as she rode her bicycle down the bumpy road after another day at the school, going through papers, grading last minute tests and accepting new enrolments for the coming school year, she saw him in the distance, deep in thought as it was so usual of him.

She hopped down from the bicycle and dragged it across the bumpy ground. But then she had an uneasy feeling about what to do next. She watched him for a moment, as he sat on the grass, listening to a piper playing from miles away, the sound echoing through the land and beyond the sea, and she thought twice before approaching. He was probably writing and she didn't want to bother him, but something told her to walk on, to let herself be known, to talk to him. So, slowly, she ventured forward, but he already knew she was there.

'Hello,' he spoke, still looking ahead to the endless ocean before them. Her presence somehow warming his spirit. A power she had over him, and that made him quite afraid of her. Afraid of what could come of it.

'Hello, Mr. Bates,' Anna answered, holding back a nervous intake of breath. 'That's my spot.' She smiled then, and he looked up to face her. The bicycle still in her hands, a wonderful grin across her lips and her golden hair blowing with the sea breeze. The rough and salty scent of the air suited too well her delicate features.

'Your spot?'

She nodded before explaining her reason, the hazel tone of his eyes almost green now, matching the landscape around them, and making her linger in them for a moment too long. 'I sit here everyday to listen to Mr. Dunn playing.'

'I haven't seen you here yet,' he smiled, rather surprised with himself for not ending this conversation before its start.

'That's because it's the first week of summer holidays, I had some work to do in the school. Extra work,' she explained.

'Well...' he looked ahead again, thinking for a second if his next words would be wise, but...why not? 'Maybe we can share this spot...if you don't mind.'

'Won't I interrupt your writing?' Her heart raced in her chest at his invitation. From all replies, that was the last one she was expecting to hear.

John looked down at his notebook, only the date was written there. 'I'm afraid you think me a better writer than I am... there's nothing to interrupt these days,' he sighed.

She rested the bicycle on the ground and sat down next to him. 'I know that's not true. I've read your books.'

'Past work.' He closed the book in his hands. 'Some things in life are never to return again.'

'I know...'

The sun was shining, casting an orange spell against the sea, seagulls flying above their heads as fishermen prepared their boats for one more night of work, and John froze. Words had left his mouth without a second thought, but he couldn't imagine that her reply would sound so painful. He looked at her then, and now she was the one looking ahead. The same trace of grief he carried so often now in her own eyes, and he cursed himself for not thinking before speaking. _How can you be a writer if you can't even talk without hurting the people around you?_

'But that doesn't mean there's no more to life. Some things are even better when they return after being lost...the longing makes us love it all the more,' she resumed, and he realised, then and there, the difference between them. She was a spirit of light, and darkness would never remain too long in her eyes.

'You are far too young to be that wise,' he told her in a lighter tone and smiled when she looked back at him.

'I've had my share of experience, Mr. Bates...it's not age that makes one wise, but living.'

John nodded then, looking down at his empty notebook. 'Why here? Why this little Isle?'

'Can't you see why?' She pointed ahead of them. The sun had began to set, boats travelled the water like snakes, the piper had become silent and the sounds of nature were all they could hear.

'You didn't know you would find this, did you? Have you been here before?' he asked her.

'No but…well, I had to go somewhere people didn't know me. I wanted my son to grow up to have a normal life. You know about my... condition don't you?'

'Mother told me.'

'I knew she would,' she sighed, nodding, fiddling almost nervously with her fingers. 'And I want to thank you for not judging me.'

'I would never judge you,' he smiled. 'I've had my share of mistakes as well, much bigger than yours. I am sure my mother has told you.'

Anna nodded again, looking back at her hands. 'Mistakes made by love are easily forgiven...I suppose.'

'What about mistakes made by foolishness?' he tried to smile but past memories came to his mind as they often did.

'Those are bumps along the road, not mistakes. We all have the right to be fools, and learn from it.'

'Coincidence then?' he asked, after a moment of silence between them, and Anna looked at him questioning. 'Coincidence brought you here.'

'Yes, it did,' she nodded looking over at him and their eyes were locked again, like so many other times, at the table, in the corridor, in the kitchen, when Anna handed him his mug of tea...this time was different, this time both stayed there, tied around a glance.

'Most wonderful experiences begin with coincidences,' he told her, and she smiled.

" _This place, that is made of dreams, and hopes, and freedom, and every single star. Made of matter that has fallen from the skies, so strong and wonderful that neither sea nor wind were able to wash it down. This little Isle that has the best of every world, that I call home, it's made from nothing but stardust."_

John grinned after her quotation. He knew too well those words.

'My coincidence has a name. It's called Stardust. You tell yourself you are not a good writer but I have dreamed of this place, through your book, and when I saw that there was a place for me here I didn't think twice,' she said. 'I just didn't know I was going to live in the house of John B.'s mother.'

'Coincidence,' he chuckled.

'Indeed...and it's been a wonderful experience.'

He nodded then, taking his time to rise, his leg still too sore and weak, and he looked down at his cane constrained, a sour taste in his mouth and pain rushing through his muscles as he stood tall as the proud man he was. She had tried to help him, but he wouldn't have it. He could manage by himself and he would.

Anna was still sitting when he looked back at her and the gentle smile that graced her features made him forget about everything else for a moment.

'By the way...' he cleared his throat as he began to walk away. 'This has been my spot since I knew how to walk myself here...you were the one who stole it.'

Anna chuckled. 'Would a cup of tea be enough for you to forgive me, Mr. Bates?' she asked playfully, joining him until they reached her bicycle, and she climbed onto it looking at him one last time there, waiting for his answer.

'I'll let you know after I drink it.' he said and with that she left, riding ahead of him and fast as she could. From his slow walk, he watched her becoming more and more distant from him. And that's how she should be. Far. As far as possible. So far he wouldn't be able to reach her even if he tried.

He told her she was forgiven with a nod and a smile when he drank the tea she had made specially for him, and afterwards he went to his room where he stayed until little Johnny called for dinner.

He sat at the little table in his room until then, his notebook opened and a pen in his hand.

" _June 12th, 1945…"_

He stared at the still blank page of his notebook feeling oddly strange, as if their last encounter had been almost an out of body experience. She had come to him so easily, with nothing but kindness and small talk, as if they had known each other for longer...and in a way they had really, at least he had, through her photograph. He had studied her features many a night, and he knew by heart the curve of her nose and the sharpness of her jawline, as if his hands had been there, caressing every single detail of her face.

And he had answered her just the same, pretending to be so much more at ease, and the strange thing about all this was that he had been. He had been at ease and happy to see her there. For the first time in a long, long time he had wanted to stay and talk, to listen as well. He had invited her to share the place and he had been comfortable with that, and his mind only began to work against him now...now that he had sat down and recalled everything they'd shared.

He sighed, almost defeated that his brain would work so often against him, telling him how wrong the cultivation of feelings was, scared that he would repeated all of his past mistakes once again. He couldn't bear that. He would rather be alone. Rather be locked up in a room unable to hurt people again.

That's when he saw it. A flash of colour fly just outside his window and he looked up from his notebook to take a better look.

'A kite?' he whispered to himself, standing up from his chair and opening the window, only to be showered by laugh and the sound of waves hitting the shore.

' _Mummy, Mummy! Look how high it flies!'_ the boy squealed happily running with the kite's string between his hands. ' _Look Mummy!'_

' _Oh, it's beautiful, Johnny!'_ Anna replied with a wide smile on her face, the wind blowing against her golden hair and her clothes, revealing more of her shape. Something he was never able to see in the picture.

They were walking in the sand, the ocean's tide low and the boats far from the coast. The sun barely visible now but it's light still able to lighten up their way. His mother was with them, walking beside Anna and he could see them in deep conversation. Was she telling his mother about their previous meeting? Maybe...had she only talked to him because his mother asked her to? Maybe she was doing all this only because she was grateful to his mum, only because she felt she had to. He shook his head but his eyes never left the three, as he imagined how his life could have been if his marriage had been a happy one. Mrs. Bates would walk arm in arm with his wife, just like she was doing now, and that little boy…

Maybe he would have found a better woman if he had been smarter and more patient, a woman like her... _her_...but it was too late now, too late. He had wasted his young years and now he was stuck with a well deserved punishment. For nothing but a reckless woman he left his parents behind, everything he loved behind, even after so many words of advice from his mother, so many warnings. He hadn't cared about all that. What a fool...what a stupid, stupid man...and in that moment he saw her looking at him, straight and piercing, letting him know that she could see the the pain and heartbreak in his eyes, but above all, longing.

John closed the window and the curtains, and sat back in his chair. He knew his mother wouldn't mention anything to him. She knew better than that, at least for now, and when he looked down at his notebook he saw her name. " _Anna..."_

Now, he could see the dark ocean mixing with the starlit sky, the Northern lights dancing, and the wind blowing against the house...He already loved the sound of his name from her very own lips, the way she smiled at him, the way her Yorkshire accent would make itself known so strong in certain words. She was beautiful and her skin was porcelain, her hair caressed her face in golden waves and the great immensity of the sea shone in her blue eyes. Writers would often write about women like her, and he had always doubt them to be real until now. Anna Smith was a character, written by life and printed on flesh, and already so dear to him. Too dear.

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 _ **Next Chapter:** After an awkward meeting in the early hours of the morning, Anna and John meet again at night, surrounded only by stars and memories of the past. _

**_Thank you for reading! Reviews always super welcome btw :)_**


	3. Under The Stars

_**A/N:** Good evening everyone :) Thank you so much for your reviews, faves and follows! It makes me want to write more and more every time you show your support. _

_I hope you enjoy this chapter and I wish you all a great weekend! :D_

 _ **Disclaimer:** Same as chapter 1-2. _

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**-** **Under The Stars -**

The old clock from the parlour struck six on that Monday morning, the sound echoing through the house and reaching Anna's ears as she rolled over in bed very pleased with herself. Summer break always felt so good, especially when she could ignore the clock's tight and endless schedule, warning her that it was more than time to leave for work.

Not today. Today was the beginning of her holiday and she couldn't be happier.

She turned in bed again, facing the window. The sun was rising strong and the waves were lapping at the shore. No rain or heavy clouds could be seen and she wondered how long that would last. Scotland was known for its famous rainy weather and on an Isle like this, weeks could go by without a break.

'No...' she growled, rubbing her eyes lazily. Anna was too comfortable but nature was calling and she couldn't help but obey. She moaned again as she sat up on her bed, taking one minute to adjust to the light coming from the outside. A yawn escaped from her lips, followed by a long stretch, and when she was done, she looked over to the nightstand and noticed something she hadn't seen before...the books. Two books more precisely. Two books laying on top of each other. One book missing.

Furrowing her brow in deep thought, wondering where on earth was her favourite book, Anna rose from bed and put on a light robe before leaving the room. Maybe she had misplaced it, but she could swear she had put it on top of the nightstand a few days ago...now that was odd.

The house was silent as she walked back to her room, the sun getting stronger, erupting through the flowery curtains of the upstairs hall window. This old house was extremely well built. Big windows facing the sea, wide hallways and large, high-ceilinged rooms, reminders of its past. 'How many families had lived here?' she once asked Mrs. Bates, but the older woman didn't have an exact answer. Many, she was sure. It was such a big home, sometimes it seemed too big really, and Anna had said so when she first moved in, thinking that Mrs Bates had had many children, enough to fill every room, but that hadn't been the case.

Unfortunately, as the older women said, God had blessed her and Reade Bates only once. John was born in the second year of their marriage and he would be their only child, even though they always dreamed of a few more, exactly for the purpose of filling this old house with laughter and fun. Happily, in his young years, John had brought friends over, children from every corner of this Isle, and that was one of the reasons why everyone saw Mrs. Bates as a motherly figure. That and the fact that she had been the only teacher for many long years.

Anna smiled at the thought. Margaret Bates was indeed a figure of respect and wisdom, and Anna saw her almost as a mother to herself as well. What else could she be after everything she's done for her? Her own mother hadn't been so compassionate, so kind, quite the opposite. Actually, everyone here had been nothing but good to her. Good and understanding. The fear had been too real when she first moved, so real she could almost touch it, so real her legs had almost given out when the ferry moored at the docks, her son Johnny holding her hand, grasping his bear close to his chest.

Anna shook her head, trying to get rid of such painful memories, and continued to walk back to her room, but before she could reach for the door, she heard a loud bump, followed by a muffled swearing, ' _Bloody hell!_ ' The sound came from John's room and she couldn't help herself but knock on the door.

'Mr Bates?' she called him, trying her best not to speak too loud, but enough for him to hear to her. 'Is everything alright?' she knocked again, harder this time and the door opened on it's own. Her eyes widened at the sight before her.

John was on the floor, half dressed. Shirt off, bottoms on. The lamp from his nightstand shattered around him and a painful look in his eyes. A painful look that turned into humiliating embarrassment when his eyes met hers, his ears turning red and his lips drawn tight.

'I'm alright,' he muttered between breaths as he tried to pick himself up again.

'I'll help you.' She hurried to him, taking one of his arms between her hands and pulling him up the best she could. He was too heavy for her, but any help was good, or so she thought.

He brought himself up, swallowing hard as he did so, but refused to meet her eyes. There was blood on his hand and she tried to take a better look at it but he wouldn't have any of it...he couldn't bring himself to.

'Please...' he whispered, his voice heavy and hurting, and for a second he was able to look in her eyes; maybe to look for what he most feared he'd find there. 'Don't pity me.'

That was enough for her. The way he spoke, the hurt in his features, the shame written on his face...she let go off his hand and he walked past her, leaving her alone in his room.

She heard the bathroom door locking and sighed. It wasn't pity her eyes had shown but compassion, feelings that at times are easily mistaken, even more to those who are being showered by them. Kneeling on the floor she gathered the broken pieces of the lamp and placed them on his nightstand... maybe it could be fixed, it wasn't that bad...and then she saw it - _the_ book.

 **xxxx**

'What's that on your hand, John?' Mrs. Bates asked as they all sat down for breakfast.

'Nothing...I broke a lamp and cut myself. Nothing too bad.' he said looking at his hand. He had wrapped it in gauze after washing it, and honestly, it wasn't that bad. The feeling of failure had been worse, and the embarrassment he felt when Anna saw him in such a state had been almost too much too bear. Managing a small smile, mostly to keep his mother from fretting, he glanced around the table, ready to start eating. The air from the sea always made him hungry, at least when he was home.

Mrs. Bates eyes travelled a moment longer from her son to Anna, knowing that the young woman knew more than she did, but she knew her John, and she knew too well when his small smile begged for the subject to be dropped, and for now she would do as he wished.

The table was set with fresh bread, a big pot of hot tea and a smaller one with coffee. There was cheese and ham, eggs and bacon and also a bowl with steaming baked beans.

'I can see things haven't changed...' he said, dipping some bread on the beans sauce and glad to be back to his mother's cooking, mostly her breakfast, that had always been so rich and diverse.

'Haven't they? Last time you were here there was no Anna, or Johnny.' the older woman smiled. 'Your father was still alive. I reckon things have changed drastically.'

There was silence at the table, but the young boy continued to eat his eggs, oblivious of the world around him. In that same moment Anna and John locked their eyes only for a short moment, before the awkwardness kicked in again.

'Some changes were bad, yes...but others very, very good!' Mrs. Bates said at last grinning widely at Johnny, quite pleased with the satisfaction he showed while eating. 'Let's do like Johnny and enjoy our food before it gets cold!'

 **xxxx**

Johnny frowned in concentration as he threw his spinning top once again against the ground. The toy was not cooperating with the boy, and he sighed disappointed as the wooden object failed to keep spinning as it should do. 'Damn.'

The word caught John by surprise and he looked up from his notebook. He was sitting outside on the stoop, trying to write down something, anything really...maybe watching the boy play would help him come up with something but he had been wrong.

'What's the matter, lad?' he asked and Johnny shrugged his shoulders in defeat, kicking a stone he found on the ground.

'My spinner doesn't work.'

John chuckled. 'You know a spinner only works when it's owner knows how to work it.'

'Its owner is not very good with spinners then...' the boy sighed again and John couldn't help but laugh at his words. Johnny was a smart lad even though he was only five, and the way he still tried to babble his way out of some words gave away his young age.

'Maybe you should try something else? Macbeth is dying for you to throw something for him to fetch,' he suggested.

'No… I can't. I have to practice.' Johnny said and John looked at him curiously. 'My friends and I are competing for the best spinner on the Isle next Sunday afternoon,' the boy pursed his lips.

'Indeed, you have to practice then...I won't bother you anymore.'

But Johnny wouldn't have it, something about Mr. Bates was mysterious even to him. Mysterious in a captivating way, and that for a child was more than a challenge. For that reason and also for the lack of someone else to help him, the boy watched John for a while, as the man stared blankly down at his notebook, before speaking again. 'They all have fathers who teach them how to spin their spinners...mum doesn't know how to do it. I asked but she doesn't know.'

The child's words struck John like an arrow, deep inside his heart. There was a faint pleading in them, mixed with the curiosity the child cultivated toward him, and that made him think. He had lost his father almost five years ago and only he knew how much he missed him, how much he needed him in a time like this, and he was a man. A grown man in his forties...now Johnny didn't even know what it felt like calling someone dad. Running to his father's steady arms and being lifted high above the ground. Being taught how to spin his spinner...

'Well then...come here. Let's teach you,' John said standing up and walking slowly towards the boy, leaving his cane resting on the ground. He only hope the motion of throwing the spinner wouldn't make his leg too sore.

'Do you know how to do it?' Johnny ran to him with a big smile on his face, showing his two missing upper teeth.

'You see, all your friends have fathers to teach them because when I was a boy, spinners were quite the trend. Every boy, and girl too, had a bunch of them. Me included. We all knew how to spin here.'

'And were you very good?' the boy cocked an eyebrow. 'Mr. Turner is the best, they say. Tim's dad.'

'Well...' John took the toy in his hand and wrapped its rope all around it, tight and sure. 'You tell Tim the best spinner on all Isle is back, and that he's teaching you all his tricks.'

Johnny could barely believe his ears and his excitement was visible in the way he looked at John maneuvering his toy, letting the boy know that this spinner was indeed very good quality and if he learned well enough he could beat all the others boys in a blink of an eye.

'Where's your trophies then?' Johnny asked him. He wanted to make sure he was dealing with a professional and not with a mere charlatan. 'We're competing for the title and a mug saying number one that Dan's mum bought when they last were at Edinburgh. Do you have a mug?' he eyed John with suspicious eyes.

'Well, don't you tell anyone but when I was a boy we competed for money. I bought a fancy cap from my spinner savings... I think I still have it somewhere.'

A fancy cap bought with his victory savings?! That was good enough for Johnny.

'Come on then, let's see if I can turn you into a champion!'

The laughs and encouraging words lasted for sometime and the two women in the kitchen wondered what was happening outside.

'Is that Johnny?' Anna asked as she washed her hands in the sink. Lunch was being made.

'And John!' Mrs. Bates replied with a smile on her lips. 'It's good to hear him laughing again. You go see them, dear, and join if you can. I won't need your help anymore.'

Anna wasn't sure about abandoning the older woman alone with the cooking but Mrs. Bates didn't give her any choice, shooing her from the kitchen and telling her only to come back when she called.

'Mummy, look! Mr. Bates is teaching me how to spin my spinning top!'

'Oh, that is really nice, but you shouldn't bother Mr Bates-'

'He's not bothering me, quite the opposite.' John said looking at the boy with a grin on his face. 'He's a lovely chap. Very smart.'

'That he is.' Anna smiled.

'I'm afraid I'm no match for him though...I can't move fast enough - Very good, Johnny!' the spinner was doing its job now.

Anna remained silent, just watching the two interacting. John smiling as she had never seen him doing before and Johnny loving all the fun.

For a moment it was like he was free of every memory and past that haunted him, as if he was a child again together with this boy. As if he had never been away and for that moment he let himself pretend he had never turned into the man he was today.

'How's your hand?' her voice brought him back to reality and he looked down examining the gauze. The soft fabric against his skin, maybe to remind himself of her brief touch early that day... He nodded, shaking away his thoughts, again.

'It's fine really, I just covered it so it would stop bleeding. It's smaller than it looked.'

'Mrs. Bates will be calling for lunch at any moment, maybe we should go inside, wash our hands and all that?' She looked at her son who shot her an upset look.

'Your mother is right, lad...I think we should stop for today...tomorrow we can practice some more.'

'Thank you, Mr. Bates, for what you are doing...he's been rather sad because he had no one to teach him….and I...' The boy ran past them.

'It was my pleasure.'

'I'm glad you get along the two of you...having a man in the house will do him good.'

John gestured for her to go in first and she did, with a nod and a giggle, and he couldn't help but smile back.

 **xxxx**

Nights on the Isle were always chilly, even during summertime, the salty wind whistling against the windows and roofs, making it sound so much more than what it really was. Darkness had come pacing, from behind hills and cloudless skies, the sun setting as slowly as a dying ember, little by little getting colder and weaker, until it was completely gone.

Now the stars. Millions of them. No moon. Stars so bright against the black immensity, enough to lighten up his way. Every single one of them could be a sun to another world. A world, perhaps, where a man just like him wandered in the darkness, knowing the way he went but lost in spirit and soul. Lost in his own body and life. Maybe that man, in that other world, would be luckier than him. Maybe that man was better than him in every sense of the word, and honestly, he hoped so. John Bates didn't hold grudges against anyone, only himself, to his acts, to his words, to his stupid decisions of the past. He was not bitter, not vindictive...he just wanted to be at peace, as much as he could.

He limped his way slowly to that one spot on the highest cliff, guided only by stars and his memory, trying to find a nightly escape from everything that his life was, and from nightmares that now seemed to haunt him every time he tried to sleep.

The sweat gathered at his brow when he arrived at the place, the way there too difficult for someone who couldn't walk that well, and much less when that someone had to carry a bloody cane all the way through; he sat down almost violently on the grass, relieved he wouldn't have to do more walking, at least for now, and a pleased sigh escaped from his lips as he felt the cool feeling of nature all around him before laying down, facing the sky. The ocean was alive in his ears, the waves crashing against the shore and in the distance the faint moo of the cows in some field nearby. Yes, nature abound here, in this place of fishermen and farmers.

He looked up again, his thoughts coming back to that one man in that other world. Maybe he was laying on the grass just like him, contemplating life as much as he was. Maybe he was at home with his family, a caring wife and a couple of children, or maybe, he was in the arms of a lover, someone to comfort him at night and to love...was she as beautiful as her? As beautiful as Anna?

'Mr Bates?' her voice made him jump and he sat up immediately, blinking his eyes in the darkness. 'Is that you?'

He remained silent for a moment, and she stood there in doubt. His thoughts making the skin of his neck hot, and a nervous fear ran through his veins. What if for some reason she knew what had just been through his mind...what if she could feel it? 'It's me, yes,' he said at last, after gathering all his strength to answer her, and he was quite impressed with himself that he had been able to remember those three words.

'I'm sorry...I...I didn't know you were here,' she stammered.

He could hear her nervous voice and her feet stepping on the grass, and from the outline of her figure he saw her tucking her hair behind her ear and a shawl covering her shoulders.

'I should get back and leave you in peace.'

'No!' the replied came too fast, too sure, too demanding and he cursed himself for that. The power he feared she held over him was already there and he couldn't believe he had allowed himself that, after all, what right did he have? He was nothing. Nothing to give her, nothing but shadows. 'We can share the spot,' he told her trying to mask his awkwardness behind the darkness of the night. Yet more words spoken right from his heart, his brain didn't have a say tonight. Not when the black of late hours hid them from the clarity of sunlight.

'Are you sure?' she asked, but before he could answer she was next to him, sitting down terribly close.

'Why not?' he whispered, laying back down. His voice impressively sure. 'We can share the spot and sleepless nights...I see we have the same sort of torment.'

Anna smiled and he could feel the warmth emanating from her spirit. 'I have to say, sleepless nights are not very common to me.'

'That's good.'

'There was a time though, when sleep was not easy.' she thought out loud, as if he was nothing but her conscience.

'I'm glad that time is in the past...' John said and she nodded and he felt her laying down beside him. 'You see those stars,' he pointed up at the sky.

'Cassiopeia?' she replied.

He looked over to her quite surprised, and he saw her there, too close to him. The first thing he noticed, brighten up by those millions of stars, was the wonderful smile she had on her lips, as she looked up to where he had pointed, followed by the smell of her hair, now spread out on the grass. It smelled of roses and lazy summer days, of longing and of home.

'And do you know who Cassiopeia was?' he asked, trying to challenge her.

'A queen... I'm a teacher, do you forget? There are some things I need to know,' she kept smiling and he swore she was brighter than all those stars above them.

'That's true, I forgot.'

'But you tell me, Mr. Bates, what's her story?' She placed her hands under her head, and shifted comfortably against the soft grass.

'You know, don't you?'

'I would like to hear it from you...I don't remember everything.'

John chuckled loudly knowing too well she was lying, but surely he wouldn't deny the request. 'Cassiopeia, wife of the king Cepheus of Ethiopia. Beautiful, too beautiful, but awfully vain.'

His voice was low and soft against her ears, contrasting to the roughness of waves hitting against the shore. The two, mixed with the breeze, played a song she had never heard before. Soothing with an urgency for life, gentle and caring almost like a lullaby. That would be John Bates for her, different from everything that he had been before. The power she held over him was life, and with her, to her, he would be born new again.

'She chained her daughter to a rock near the sea so the tempest could claim her soul,' he continued his tale, and she dared to close her eyes to take in every one of his words. 'That's why she's up there, high, only to be seen at night, never to be known by common men, chained to a chair upside down, mixed with all the other millions of stars...stars as beautiful as her...Cassiopeia will never stand out from the crowd, ever again.'

'I know you took my book, I mean... your book,' she whispered a moment after he was finished, her eyes still closed. 'I saw it on your nightstand this morning.'

'I am sorry I forgot to put it back, I...I didn't know it was your room until I saw your things,' he apologised and was telling the truth. When he looked up from his book, those days ago, he looked around to see that the room belonged to Anna. Her bed, her clothes, a table with her feminine belongings, her night dress resting on a chair...his heart had raced in his chest and the first thing that came to his mind was to leave the place, close the door behind him and think of it as forbidden. But the book had remained in his hands, and he carried it with him almost as a souvenir of that place. For a moment he had thought about putting it down, but for some reason he hadn't been able to do that. So, he took it, and when he reached for his own bed, he sat down, opened it when she had it marked and traced its pages with his fingertips…

" _Reade's mother used to tell him, when he was no more than an young child, that love is what you see. 'Look, Reade, my darling boy,' she would say. 'When you look and see in one's eyes your whole life you will know it. When you look in one's eyes and see your destiny, your salvation. When one's eyes tell you more than words. When they soothe you through stormy days and miserable nights. When they shout for you not to give up. But above all, look to see in them your future and when you do, that's love."_

'It's alright, I have nothing to hide. I want it back though, I was reading it...but only if you sign it for me,' and when he looked over at her again she was smiling at him, and her eyes were stars and life, and for a moment he was back in France, a bullet piercing through his flesh and her photograph tight against his chest. ' _Do not give up, John Bates, not before we meet. Not ever.'_

He cleared his throat and sat up, trying to shake away such thoughts...not bad thoughts though, not this time, not this one single time, but strange. Strange and powerful. 'I'm not famous enough to sign it,' he managed a small smile back.

'You are a wonderful writer and the most famous person I know,' Anna told him sincerely and he chuckled. 'A wonderful not that famous writer then,' she sat up with him and her voice was playful, but she meant every word she said. Yes, maybe John Bates wasn't the most famous of writers but to her he was the best.

'How did you find me? I mean...my books?'

'In a second hand fair. A woman was selling the first two and after I read them I had to find all of your work...unfortunately there was only one more book.'

'Well...if I was that good she wouldn't sell them away.'

'Don't you see? It was meant to be, Mr. Bates, and that's why I'm here. She had to sell them else I would still be in Yorkshire, probably jobless and Johnny adopted out, or something.' _And away from you._ 'It was destiny.'

'Do you miss him?' he asked after some time of comforting silence. The question coming unexpectedly but for the first time he didn't flinch when he spoke.

'No. I don't. Not anymore...'

'Why then?'

'He was going to war, and we were in love, or I thought we were...' her hands fiddled with bits of grass, pulling it by its roots as she spoke, the feeling somehow relaxing even to himself. 'I was afraid I wouldn't see him anymore, and I think I knew I wouldn't. It was a goodbye I think...we both felt that way.'

'Do you ever regret it?'

'I thought I did...and in a way maybe I still do but...I have Johnny and he's the best thing I could possibly have. I think when there's a child you never regret it, not truly.'

'Did he ever know about Johnny?'

'No. When my letter arrived he was already dead.' she sighed biting her lip, looking down at her hands.

'I am sorry.'

'I know.'

His eyes were on her now as she glanced towards the sky, completely oblivious of his gaze. She was fascinating, even though he already knew some of her story, and he found himself wanting to know even more. To listen to her clear voice unveiling more about her past. Why did a young woman, who seemed to be so sure of herself, so clever and rational, so proper, allow a man to have her in the most intimate of ways, only to leave her the next day bearing a child? True that he didn't know, and he would probably come back to marry her if he had survived but...

 _Why don't you miss him anymore? You thought you loved him but you didn't? Was that the case? Because then, we have more in common than I realised._ Those questions did linger in his mind but tonight he wouldn't have the courage to ask them.

'What are you thinking?' she asked, bringing him back.

'My thoughts are too dark for you,' it was his turn to look ahead.

'That's the peculiarity of thoughts Mr. Bates. It's what you do with them that makes you who are.'

'Honestly, you are more of a wordsmith than I am.'

'I'm not. I need to know my words well enough to share them with my pupils, and I've read enough to take the best advices from books I possibly can. Most of these are yours...or have you forgotten your own words?'

John nodded speechless.

'Do you miss her?'

And her question made his heart race once again. This time uncomfortably so. 'No. Never did.'

'Why then?'

John gazed at the stars, it was only fair... 'The need of trying to prove that I could be a man like the others, have a family, support a wife and children. The need to prove to myself that I could have my own life...that I...that I could make a woman happy.'

'You didn't love her then?'

Now, there was his unasked question turning itself at him. Anna Smith was braver than he was, he already knew that, braver than most people he knew. 'You can't love someone who asks you to leave the place where you belong...leave the person you are. Not truly.'

'Why did you leave then?'

'Because I was...I am a fool.'

'Remember? Everyone has the right to be a fool and learn from it.'

'I suppose...' He sighed into the night and felt her doing just the same.

Funny the power of darkness...of conversations away from the light, when people speak more truthfully, when people dream, when they dare and fantasise, when everything seems to be possible. The night disguises itself as an old trusted companion, ready to make you at ease with feelings and thoughts, ready to persuade you to share them even when you probably shouldn't. It's also at night when those same words leave your mouth with such ease that you are sure when morning comes they will be forgotten. Their very sounds, the very voices, slow, low, whispers, tentative, trying to dress the importance of those words as something banal, something you would say to everyone, but no...never.

If she had been someone else he would have not told her to stay, he wouldn't look up at the stars and ask her about them, about herself. If she had been someone else his smiles would have been less felt, and his body wouldn't have craved for the gentle breeze to keep blowing, to keep caressing her hair so its scent could fly to his lungs, mixed with salt and grass. He wouldn't have sneaked glimpses of her features, of her smile, the way her lips moved when she talked, no...he would have stayed there alone, by himself, longing for all of this instead.

Darkness is funny, yes, mysterious, daring, but mixed with feelings and racing hearts it becomes dangerous...and it became a moment in time that he felt the best of himself. He didn't know why really, but the feeling of them there, doing something so mundane as watching the stars above made him realised.

'Yes, I suppose...You have yet to look into someone's eyes and see in them your whole life.' she smiled and her eyes shone, and even through the pitch dark of that moonless night he could see them looking back at him with no mask or lies, only tenderness and honesty, and he could swear that if he looked into them one second more he could have seen everything he had always wished for.

If only he had looked long enough, deep into her eyes...but he would...with time he would.

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 _ **Next Chapter:** Spinning top competitions, secret admirers and haunted lighthouses. _

**_Thank you for reading! Reviews always super welcomed :)_**


	4. Light

_**A/N:** Good evening everyone :) I hope you all had a great week! It's finally Friday and that means a new chapter. Things are moving slowly for Anna and John but maybe, this chapter will have a little surprise by the end. Now, don't get too excited (yet), but we all know that Anna knows what she wants and that she's not afraid to show her feelings. Go Anna! We love you for that!_

 _Also, I want to thank **Isis the Dog** for her amazing reviews! She always writes lovely messages that make me so, so happy! In all the fics out there really. Thank you so much for that, it means a lot to us writers :) As for the other guests who review, you are not less loved, not one bit! Thank you all so much for your support :D You, dear readers, are who keep us writing. After all, we do this because we love to share our stories with you. _

_Enjoy chapter 4! I wish you all a great weekend!_

 _ **Disclaimer:** Same as chapter 1-3. _

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**\- Light -**

John was rifling through an old chest in the attic, trying to find a relic from his youth. His knee was bothering him a lot lately, probably due to his long walks on the irregular ground of the high cliffs. But he couldn't make himself stop, mostly because he knew how much she loved it there. He knew he had a better chance of being with her alone on those cliffs. It was the place where they first actually talked and had already shared moments he would never forget, even though he tried to convince himself his walks there were nothing but an escape. An escape from bad memories... and the claiming of new good ones. Very good ones.

'John?' his mother's voice startled him from his thoughts and he couldn't help but bring a hand to his chest.

'Mother...you gave me a fright,' he said.

'Well, you gave me a bigger fright! I thought there were mice up here again, or bats, or someone!' she shot him a look. 'Where did you find the keys?'

'In your drawer...I meant to ask but you weren't home.'

'Oh yes.' Mrs Bates rested her hands on her broad hips, eyeing him. 'You've been barging into other people's rooms lately, I forgot.'

John stood up at once facing his mother with a questioning look on his face. 'What do you mean?'

The older woman stared at him and he couldn't help but dropped his eyes to the floor for a moment, before facing her again. 'I didn't know it was her room.'

'I know you didn't...I was just saying -'

'There's nothing for you to say, mother,' he told her, slightly irritated. 'Don't you go seeing what's not to see, please.'

'That's exactly what I do, son. I only see what's right in front of me eyes...no more, no less, and you should know that by now.'

The certainty in her voice was almost overwhelming and, as he usually did when his mother was right and he wasn't ready to admit it, he chose to ignore her and resumed his quest.

'Didn't you have a chest with my old things? From when I was a boy?' he asked her a moment after.

'I do, whatever for?'

'I need...' he sighed. 'I had a cap that always wore. I want it back.'

'Over there,' she pointed to the darkest corner of the room. 'Why do you want it? Surely it won't fit your big head anymore.'

John chuckled loudly as he opened the chest. 'It's not for me - ah, here it is!' he smiled, holding his old cap between his hands, a feeling of melancholia creeping into his bones. If he could go back in time, when he was small enough to be wearing that cap once again, he would have done everything differently. But that's life, isn't it? A collection of mistakes and experiences that we long to forget, or relive. But that was impossible. What was done, was done.

He turned to his mother then, his smile still there, to see the questioning look on her face.

'Johnny has a spinner competition today. I'm going to give him my cap for good luck,' John explained, taking his cane and walking out of the attic, leaving his mother behind with a immense feeling of joy growing within her. At long last, her son was beginning to look like himself, but she knew better than anyone that his steps would be slow and unsure.

'You better run then...they just left,' Mrs Bates yelled as John climbed down the stairs, and she couldn't help but grin when she heard him walking faster and then swearing.

' _Bloody hell!'_

'Watch your mouth, John Bates! His father's son, for sure...'

 **xxxx**

He didn't actually run but he was walking as fast as he could, and he would probably pay for it later, but at the moment, he had one aim and he would get there in time. Johnny mentioned the competition would be outside the local pub, due to the fact that there was a bit of cemented paving in front of the small building. It was the perfect spot for spinners to do their spinning job, and thankfully, not very far...but still far enough, and John was sweating and breathing erratically when he got there.

It was not long past three o'clock in the afternoon, and the sun was high, masked now and then by weak clouds that blew in from the sea. His shirt was stuck to his back, and he would give anything to remove his jacket right now, but he wouldn't do it. Maybe the cool breeze that was so common on this Isle would make him feel better soon.

He watched as a growing crowd of children gathered on the pavement outside the noisy pub. The men sat on stools with cups of beer and scotch in their hands, waiting for this competition to start, as if it were nothing less but the happening of the year.

His eyes roamed through the crowd, trying to find little Johnny, but yet again, she would be the one finding him first.

'Mr Bates!' she walked towards him smiling and he couldn't help but let out a relieved sigh. 'We couldn't find you. I trust Mrs Bates told you we had to leave without you.'

Anna was wearing a flowery dress, very similar to the one she had worn when they met, and a maroon cardigan. Her hair was braided at the front, and she had wrapped it around the back, some golden strands falling to her shoulders. Her lips and cheeks flushed with a bit of colour.

'Oh yes, she did. I was...' he took the cap from his pocket, and cleared his throat, somehow feeling shy. 'I was looking for this.'

'A cap?' she asked him. 'Is that your fancy cap?'

John looked at her with a surprised smile on his face. 'My fancy cap,' he smiled at the old thing in his hands. Her son had told her everything and for some reason that pleased him greatly. 'Where's Johnny?'

Anna looked around before spotting her son talking with some of his friends. 'He's right there,' she pointed it out. 'Johnny!'

The boy came running as fast as he could, once he saw that John was the reason his mother was calling. He stopped by them breathless, with a broad smile on his face.

'You came, Mr Bates!' he exclaimed excitedly.

'I wouldn't miss this grand competition for the world,' John told him, smiling down at the boy and placing the cap firmly on his head. 'There, my lucky cap to bring you good fortune,' he winked.

Johnny's eyes looked up, trying to see the cap better, but without wanting to remove it from his head. He was awed by the gesture, shocked even, looking at his mother with wide eyes once he began to feel the warmth of the fabric against his blond hair.

'Won't you thank Mr. Bates?' Anna said raising her brows at her son.

'Thank you, Mr. Bates…' the boy's voice was enthusiastic, with a faint hint of emotion. 'I will do my best to honour your fancy cap,' he said resolutely, puffing his chest out to make his point.

John nodded down at the boy, before patting his shoulder, not knowing exactly what to do upon seeing the look on Johnny's eyes. 'You just do your best, no matter what the result is.'

After that the boy ran back to his friends, the competition about to start.

'Thank you so much for your gesture, Mr. Bates. Johnny was very touched, as am I.'

When he looked at her, he could see a trace of unshed tears in her eyes, that she was quick to smile away. Somehow that teary smile suited the colour of her eyes, making the deep blue of her iris shine.

'Aren't you hot?' she asked him a moment later, and he faced her with curious eyes.

'I am rather,' he answered and she shot him a dubious look.

'Why don't you take your jacked off then? You are always in a suit, you should wear something less…' she tried to think of the right word, 'strick... something more comfortable,' she smiled. 'Or maybe you just really love suits.'

Anna chuckled trying to spot her son in the middle of the other children and John couldn't help but agree with her. He didn't love suits but he liked to present himself in a proper manner...probably the only thing in his life he had control over. Maybe it was time to free himself a little more, now that he was trying to free himself from everything else.

'It's quite silly, isn't it? Wearing a suit in such a place? Going for walks and sitting on the grass all buttoned up?' he asked aloud but all the questions had been enunciated for himself.

She couldn't help but nod in agreement with a tender look in her eyes, before telling him to hand her his cane while he took his jacket off. 'Sometimes it's good to leave the rituals of the past behind...it's frees the spirit,' she told him.

'You're right.' He took his jacked off in silence then, taken aback with her words, as if she knew exactly the reason behind this old habit of his. 'Thank you.' She handed him his cane back after he folded the jacket on his arm.

'So much better, isn't it?!'

The sun was behind clouds a moment later. Clouds as white and pure as the snow in the highest mountains. Fluffy and cotton like Summer clouds, that showed no threat of rain, only there to make the blue immensity of the sky a bit more interesting.

Then, there was silence. Adults and children gathered around the little set ring of spinners on the pavement. Anna walked to the front of the row, for a better look at her son's performance, but John remained in his spot. He was tall after all, he could see everything clearly from where he stood.

There was cheering as the four boys and one girl who were competing, threw their spinners on the ground, and after that silence again, until the last spinner would stop spinning.

'Away for quite some time and enough to forget your friends.' John lost all his concentration on the competition as the man spoke.

One of the boys spinner had stopped; a boy named Keith, now crying on his father's arms.

'I certainly haven't forgotten you,' John smiled.

'You arrived here and we barely spoke! One invites you for a pint and some nuts and you refuse like a Judas.'

'I don't drink anymore, I told you.'

'I will drink for you, I told you,' Joseph, an old school friend of John's, grinned. 'What have you been doing? Writing in that journal of yours?'

'Yes.' John's answer was restrained. _Not writing, more like trying to write._

'You know, whenever you are bored there's plenty to do in the barn. Cows to milk, shit to clean, all sorts. You chose.' the old friend patted his back, making John lose his balance for a second. 'But then, I reckon you have plenty of reasons to stay home, hm?'

'Do I?' John questioned, confused, trying to keep an eye on the spinners.

'Ay. With a pretty lass like that Anna living under the same roof as you...I wouldn't be going out too often neither.'

John swallowed hard, trying his best to pretend Joseph's words hadn't had any effect on him. 'Anna is a nice girl, Joseph, that's it.'

'Ah!' the man faced him with a serious look. 'Didn't say she was bad, did I? She's nice all right. She's nice to everyone and we all like her here. Good teacher and very good to the children, they all love her. But we are only men, ya know, no harm in admiring from afar.'

'If it's only from afar.' John managed a small smile. This conversation was not pleasing him at all. 'Aren't you married?' he asked, masking his annoyance behind a smile.

'Very well married, thank you. I was only joshing with you.' Joseph elbowed him. 'She wouldn't have it anyway. There's plenty of young blokes come sniffing around her when she first arrived. She sent them packing, nicely, mind you, but packing none the less.'

'Young blokes? What young blokes?' John asked intrigued.

'You know, John...everyone here is either your sister or your cousin, comes in the new, young, pretty teacher, everyone goes mad.' Joseph laughed aloud, and John joined him, glad to know she could handle it herself.

One more spinner was down.

'It's sad though,' Joseph continued. 'I mean, such a young beautiful woman alone with a child. Her man died in the war, you know. Sad business.'

'Indeed,' John sighed innocently as if he knew nothing else about her past. He was glad that that was what people thought. As good as everyone here was, society wouldn't allow someone with her story to come out clean, much less teach their children.

There were three spinners on the cement, as fast as the eyes could see. Johnny was crouched, watching his toy in concentration. The girl, named Ailsa, was standing beside him, her arms crossed over her chest and a smile on her face. Her hair was dark and her eyes were green as olives. She had freckles covering her cheeks and most of her teeth were gone making her speech difficult but that certainly wouldn't stop her from speaking. And there was another boy, sitting on the ground with his hands closed in fists that he hit slowly on his legs, sort of rooting for his own toy. His name was Tim and he was almost as blond as William. No freckles and all his teeth in his mouth, one soon to be missing, his eyes dark brown, almost black.

Then, another spinner stopped and Tim punched his legs strongly, letting out a cry, more for the pain on his limbs than for heartbreak over his beloved toy.

Johnny and Ailsa took their spinners and wrapped their strings around them. One final throw would set the winner, and both were eyeing the _Number One_ mug with longing. The boy straighten his _new_ cap before the spinners were freed into the middle of the cemented pavement, the sound of metal hitting concrete feeding their need of victory as they both stood facing each other, while their toys spun between them.

But for some reason, the lucky cap wasn't lucky that day, or maybe Johnny just needed more practice, after all, one week was not enough to perfect the art of spinning tops. His toy stopped, falling dead on the ground.

'I won!' Ailsa shouted victoriously, jumping up and down, both of her braids joining in the cheering, while Johnny took his spinner, sad and downcast, and walked towards his mother, dragging his feet.

'I lost,' he told her, looking down at the spinner in his hands. 'I'm so bad not even the cap worked.'

Anna shook her head, readying herself to cheer her little man up, until she felt John's presence beside her. When she looked, he was grinning down at the boy, a tender expression on his face.

'Nonsense, Johnny,' he told him, resting his cane on the inside of his elbow and placing his hands on the boy's shoulders. 'You were brilliant! You've tried your best and you made second place. You just need more practice. No one does perfect on their first try.'

Anna smiled down at the boy, nodding her head in agreement.

'Plus…' John looked over at Ailsa for a second, as she drank some water from her new mug. 'She's a feisty girl...no boy should ever best her,' he winked and Johnny smiled.

'Johnny!' the girl ran to them with the mug in her hands. 'Are you thirsty?' she asked and the boy nodded. 'I'll let you drink from my mug if you want.'

'Ailsa, have you met Mr. Bates?' Anna spoke. 'She's Jephery's youngest.'

'Ah, of course! You have Kenneth written all over your face,' he told the girl and she stretched her hand out in greeting.

'I'm Johnny's friend and I passed to Primary two, and I just won.' Ailsa smiled proudly.

'That is very good information to have.' John chuckled at the little girl. 'I'm Mrs. Bates' son, do you know her?' Ailsa nodded, shooting a curious look at his cane. 'I'm a former soldier as well.'

'You fought for King and Country?' she asked widening her eyes.

'I did, yes.'

'That's extraordinary.' The words left her mouth followed by lisps and Anna and John couldn't help but find the girl extremely adorable.

Not much long after, as soon as defeat was forgotten by the boys, the children began to play together, each taking a turn to take a sip from the _Number One_ mug. Tim would try to take it home later that day, sneaking it beneath his shirt but Ailsa handled that issue with ease when she kicked him and threatened to knock his teeth out before they were ready.

 **xxxx**

'I will practice and practice and one day I will win!' Johnny said at dinner while he chewed on a piece of sausage.

'If you are persistent you certainly will,' Mrs Bates replied, passing a bowl of beans to Anna.

'Mrs. Bates?' Johnny furrowed his brow in deep thought, rubbing his chin. 'I've heard stories about the lighthouse.'

'Have you now?' the old woman smiled, as she spooned rice on to her plate. Anna and John stopped eating and looked at the boy with curiosity.

'Ailsa said it's haunted by some ungodly demon.'

'Johnny...you shouldn't believe everything you hear, darling,' Anna cautioned.

'Oh, no, Anna, in this case he should. It's haunted all right.' Mrs Bates rested her cutlery on the edge of her plate and Anna looked at her with doubting eyes. 'The Ol' Piper is up there, I'm just used to him. He's been there since my husband was a boy, since his father was a boy even!'

Anna looked over at John, who was nodding at his mother's words. 'I didn't know you believed in such things, Mr. Bates.'

'Not usually…' he smiled down at his food. 'But I do believe this one. When I was a boy, my friends and I went up there one stormy night and we did hear the piper. I don't know if it's a demon or a ghost or…' he shrugged his shoulders, 'I don't know what it is, but there's something there.'

'They were so frightened they came running down the stairs. Apart from John, who came rolling down only stopping because he hit the door. That's why he's got that nasty scar on his cheek. Broke his left arm too.'

John shook his head shyly. 'I was never a good runner. I can't really blame the limp for that,' he joked, pleased with himself that he had been able to talk about his wound in a light manner for once.

'Do you never listen to the pipes, Mrs. Bates?' Johnny asked, his eyes wide with excitement now that the story was confirmed.

'Not much...I only go there for work. I don't bother him. He doesn't bother me. But I have once or twice.'

'If you call him he'll come up to you,' John added, bringing his fork to his mouth.

'Call him?' Anna questioned, curious.

He nodded, swallowing his food before speaking. 'Ol' Piper, playing pipe and rotting in the sea. Ol' Piper playing pipe, show yourself to me.'

'Rotting in the sea?' Anna crinkled her nose, aghast at the image.

'Rumour has it he was an old lighthouse keeper who threw himself from up there after he lost his wife and children to the consumption back in the old days. No one is sure about it though. And no body was ever found,' Mrs Bates said, after a long sip on her water.

'That's a tragic story,' Anna expressed, pursing her lips. 'If it's in fact what happened.'

'I reckon it's more about frightening the children and giving it a propose. Maybe the ghost just likes to hang in there for no reason at all. I mean, when I die, I want my spirit to remain in this house, the place where I became a wife and a mother,' the older woman reasoned.

'I think only tormented spirits stay behind, Mother, isn't that what they say?' John asked in mocking manner.

'I will definitely stay then.' His mother shot him a look and Anna couldn't help but giggle, her mouth full of rice, trying her best not to spit it all over the table. John on the other side of the table, rolled his eyes at the older woman's words. Actually, there was some truth in them, even though he hated to admit it.

As the adults talked, Johnny's eyes wandered out the window, from where he could clearly see part of the lighthouse, standing tall at the edge of the land, the setting sun casting an almost surreal look upon the structure. The voices around him became distant as he imagined what was like to see a real ghost. He did think, at first, that Ailsa was only trying to scare him, as she often did, but this time she was telling the truth!

'You could take me one day, Mr. Bates,' the boy spoke all of a sudden.

'Johnny…' Anna shook her head at her son.

'But mummy, I've never seen a ghost!' he pleaded. 'And the ghost already knows Mr. Bates and all.' Johnny placed his elbows on the table, resting his face between his hands. 'I always wanted to see a ghost,' he pouted.

'You've never been in the lighthouse?'John asked as Anna shot Johnny a scolding look.

'Not at night,'Johnny answered downcast.

'Well...maybe one day. If your mother says it's all right and when my leg feels better. What do you say? Maybe you can invite Ailsa.'

'Yes!' the boy exclaimed excitedly. 'And Tim too!'

'Whoever you want,' John replied, smiling at the boy, before looking over at Anna, as he felt her eyes on him, and they stayed there for a moment longer.

'Maybe I can go too?' she asked him and smiled when he nodded his approval.

It was much later that night when they met alone again. John was sitting on the stoop overlooking the sea, _the_ book in his hands, gazing the stars as he often did. This time, there was a moon, full and bright, showing all its dark spots and flaws, all that made it so beautiful. Nature is perfect the way it is, crooked, twisted, discoloured...why do people have such high standards when we are nothing but nature ourselves?

That's when she approached him from behind, one mug of steamy tea in each hand. His shadow was broad between the door frame and she lingered in the darkness of the hallway for a second more, just looking at him. Something about him, in the way he presented himself, made her unable to look away for too long.

'It's chilly, I thought you would like something to warm you up.' She sat down beside him, handing him his mug and was surprised when he began to make space for her even before she spoke.

'Thank you, much appreciated.' _But the sight of you is enough to make me warm._ He smiled taking the mug in his hands and giving her the book. 'It's signed.'

Anna rested her tea on the step and took the book in her hands, opening it and reading in the light of the moon...

" _To my newest friend, Anna, with whom I am honoured to share MY spot and this wonderful Isle,_

 _From the wonderful, not that famous writer, John B."_

She felt her cheeks warming after reading his words, and a shy smiled crept over her features. 'Thank you, Mr Bates.'

John nodded not daring look at her. He took a long sip on his tea and sighed pleased, 'You do your tea well.'

'Tea and soup, that's about it really,' she chuckled. 'Mother would scold me...she used to say no man would want to marry me if I didn't know how to cook.'

'Only those men who think that women belong in the kitchen,' he told her. 'You should stay away from them in any case.'

'I don't think about it anyway.'

'You should, you're young,' he told her and a selfish feeling grew inside his heart.

'I have a son and...I don't...I'm well as I am. Johnny, he fulfills me.'

'No child replaces a true companion.' He spoke again, words leaving his mouth without a second thought. _What are you trying to do?_

'What about you? Have you thought about marrying again?'

John chuckled loudly, then, as he thanked the unknown for her ever-present curiosity and cleverness. 'You're going to turn this on me as you often do.'

'It's just,' she smiled, shaking her head. 'You give advice but never follow.'

'Those who give advice live without second opinions, didn't you know that?'

'So your answer is no?'

'My answer is…' he thought for a moment and could feel her eyes on him, waiting eagerly for him to continue. 'The future is as unpredictable as human life. Living one day after the other is what people like me should do. People who've already had a good share of living, mistakes and bad relationships. People whose age is tracking them down like a goose in hunting season. That's my answer.'

Anna wrinkled her nose at that and he let out a laugh at her expression.

The moonlight above their heads shone as brightly and as strongly as a lamp against the black sky. The stars mere whispers of bodies a million years away. The hill in the distance seemed to be bathed with crystal lights, and the moon reflected on her pale skin, as if she was meant only to be seen at this time of the night. And maybe in a way she was, as all of their deepest conversations were held in the darkness and in low voices. It was as if they tried to mask all of their feelings with the excuse of late hours and tired minds. But that was never the case. Whenever they were together, alone or not, their senses were working fully and their minds didn't stop for a moment. When they were together, alone, at night, there was nothing being missed or misspoken.

She held the mug between her graceful fingers, trying her best to take in whatever warmth she could for herself while she stared at the night sky, enamoured by it. The day was trees and birds and laughter, it was sunshine and colour, but the night...the night had the ebony sky and billions of wonders to discover, and the more you look the more you are rewarded.

He found it impossible to avert his eyes from her, the shawl around her shoulders, her hair loose, cascading down her back, her lashes flickering in unison with the stars. She would tell him, later on, that she knew about all his gazes and looks, furtive moments of admiring, and he would smile shyly, asking her why she had never told him about it before...but for now she would let him think this was all his, that she didn't feel his eyes claiming what his body and words were so afraid to do. For now she would pretend the sky to be her only passion, even though her heart already beat in simpatico with his.

'Thank you...' she said a moment later, and he locked his look on the faraway hill ahead of them, before facing her again with a questioning look. '...for everything you are doing for Johnny...it means so much to us. I'm grateful.'

'You don't need to thank me, Anna.' The sound of him whispering her name sent shivers down her spine. 'I should be the one thanking you two. You've helped my mother in more ways that I could explain and...you've helped me as well. I've been greeted with nothing but kindness and friendship.'

'We're even then…' she smiled.

He nodded in agreement, although he was sure he would never be even with her. She would always be a light, the hand that protected his fragile flame from being extinguished. And then, he felt it, warm and soft against his cheek, and he did try to think of any other reason for such feeling but it was all her. Her lips against his skin, brief and ever so gentle, like a warm summer breeze in the early hours of the afternoon. He froze in his place before looking at her, a smile on his lips he didn't even know he had, and her eyes sure on his.

Anna looked down shyly before rising, telling him it was time to go to bed, the day had been long and she was rather sleepy.

John could only nod, words still too unsure to be formed...what if he said something he wasn't supposed to? He, who tried his best to hide his emotions, knew better than anyone else that once they were running wild there was no way to stop them, and that was exactly why he tried to avoid emotional contact at any cost, but with Anna, that was completely impossible. First, because she was always able to find him out, as if her mission in life was to bring him up from his darkness, and second, because all he wanted was for her to do just that.

He made his way to his room, long minutes later, the hot feeling of her lips still burning on his skin. When he looked at himself in the mirror he saw the mark she had left...no, not on his cheek, but in his eyes. They had light in them again, maybe even hope, and he sat down at his desk and began to write.

" _June 24th, 1945,_

 _I now know why I returned here…"_

* * *

 _ **Next Chapter:** John decides to put his hands to work when he sees that his father's beloved garden is abandoned, and as he searches for gardening tools, he finds yet another relic. _

**_Thank you for reading :)_**


	5. Regrets

**_A/N:_** _Good evening my friends! The chapter before the show! I hope you enjoy it and thank you all so much for your support :)_

 _Wish you all a grand weekend and happy Downton watching on Sunday. May this new series bring us great Banna moments (and Baby Bates of course!)_

 _ **Disclaimer:** Same as chapter 1-4. _

* * *

**\- Regrets -**

Anna tossed and turned in bed that night, her mind unable to shut down after what had happened. Her kiss had been sincere, as everything she told him was, but more than that, it had been felt in her heart before she even pressed her lips against his cheek. She was thankful to him for Johnny, for his kind gestures towards her darling son, for being the manly figure he needed in his life. But that kiss held so much more, more than she would like to admit really. It held a feeling she tried to convince herself would pass... _it's just because it's so new. It will pass. It will pass as it did with Richard._

Although, deep inside her heart she knew this was different than before. Different than anything she'd ever experienced. For in that chaste quick kiss, she felt herself sinking in, deeper and deeper. But she was no tragic boat slipping into the deepest of seas, filled with fear and despair. No, these waters were calm and warm, rocking her peacefully to a dreamy bliss, and a whispering in her ears told her she could let herself go, it was safe… _John's everything you've always dreamed of._

And as she slept, now soundly, he was awake in his room. The pen in his hand scratching on the paper, giving away the urgency of his words, of the need to express his feelings the best way he knew, illuminated only by the faint candlelight. The kind of light he always used when writing, either his books or letters home to his mother. The kind of flickering light that made him relax at the worst of times, maybe reminding himself that his own flame could be as faint but still filled with hope and potential to burn even brighter and stronger.

As the hours passed, the candle on his desk melted away, together with darkness, dying as two companions so the sun could be born again. Light giving light another chance, darkness would never last for long.

John looked at the clock on his nightstand, and it was ten past six. The night had slipped away before he knew it. He wasn't surprised. That would happen every time he wrote, and honestly, he missed it. He sighed and closed his notebook. Mixed feelings were running through his mind. It had been silly really, trying to write away from his emotions, write about something he wasn't feeling, when in reality, one writes solely what comes to the heart and spirit, to express one's deepest feelings, desires and fears. He had fooled himself, trying to pretend that she didn't inhabit in neither, when she was already so craved deep inside his being. That's where he found it hard to convey, that she was so important to him, when he knew so well that shouldn't be the case. He had tried to write about hills and fishermen, as he used to earlier in his life, but now his muse was something else. His muse was a woman whom he had met in the battlefield, nothing but a mere photograph his mother had sent. Nothing but his saviour and greatest companion, even though she didn't have any idea of all that she was.

Maybe he should have been more distant, should have spoken less, but he couldn't do it. Since he'd first seen her, only in a black and white photo, he had longed for her, more than words could reason. His mind and body had dreamed of her since the first time he'd held her picture in his hand, and he would until the last of his days. Every time he saw her there was a power from within that made him unable to resist, or maybe it was her, and the power she already had over him. Whatever it was, it was making him feel alive and scared at the same time. After all, what right did he have to even dare to dream of her when his whole life was one mistake after another?

 **xxxx**

When Anna came down for breakfast, she had seen John leaning against the kitchen counter, looking outside and waiting for his coffee to brew. To her surprise, he was not wearing a suit. It was the first time she had seen him dressed so casually, apart from the photographs his mother had, and somehow this John looked familiar to her. She had taken a deep breath before entering the kitchen, thinking about the night before, and for a moment unsure of what to say, or even if she should say something. But once again, as every time she approached, something inside his heart told him exactly where she was, and he turned smiling at her before she could say a word.

'Good morning,' his voice had been slow and gentle, matching the crinkles at his eyes.

'Good morning, Mr. Bates.'

'Coffee?' he offered pouring some into his mug as she walked towards him. 'It's rather strong.'

'That's how I like it, with some milk though.'

'Fair enough,' John smiled again, looking deeply into her eyes only for a second, before taking an extra mug from the cabinet. Her heart raced in her chest as she attentively watched his every movement. 'Tell me when to stop,' he said, as he slowly poured the coffee.

His mother had arrived to the kitchen shortly after, ready to start cooking breakfast and making plans for their day.

Now, Anna and Mrs. Bates sat at the table, eating their breakfast and chatting about the meeting they would attend that same afternoon in church. They would discuss with the other women the best ways to send supplies to the soldiers fighting for their country, and to the families that now struggled to have their lives back to normal.

John was still at the window, his mug nearly empty, but now looking out at the overgrown garden . 'Mother…' he spoke, 'The garden is in an awful state. Why did you let it get like this?'

'I'm afraid my old bones are not what they used to be. Climbing all those stairs is hard as it is, don't you dare tell me I have to plant as well!' Mrs Bates replied, chuckling over at Anna as she did so.

'I should take care of it,' he said. 'Father would be disappointed if he saw his beloved garden abandoned.'

'Well, you do that then. I'm sure Reade would forgive me if he saw my state, and he would be very happy if you cared for it. You two used to spend so much time out there…' she faced Anna then. 'That garden was a sight for sore eyes once, filled with the most beautiful flowers and vegetables. They would spend their afternoons there, chatting away more like friends than father and son...the spitting image of each other, apart from the hair. Reade was a redhead.'

'It's sorted then, I'll start to work on it this afternoon,' John decided, taking one last sip of his coffee. 'Give it some pride once again.'

'I could help!' Johnny spoke from the table, his breakfast plate already empty.

'You are going to Tim's house, darling. Mummy's not home this afternoon,' Anna said.

'He can stay with me,' John offered. 'I would use a helper, it's a hard job. There's fences to fix and all that.'

Anna pursed her lips, unsure. 'He can be a handful,' she warned.

'Nothing I can't deal with….two handfuls give a rather strong pair of hands to work.' he winked at the boy.

'All right then. If you're sure.' Anna smiled at her son, running her hand along his blonde hair.

'Yes!' Johnny cheered. 'Macbeth can help us too! He can keep guard and dig holes!'

'I don't see why not,' John chuckled at the boy's enthusiasm.

 **xxxx**

The sun was hiding behind heavy clouds when the women left, packed with some old clothes they had been able to gather. Mrs Bates had baked a cake too, as these meetings always ended with a good chat and some tea.

'You behave while I'm gone. Do as Mr Bates says...I'll ask him if you were a good boy when I come back.' Anna warned her son after kissing the top of his head and the boy nodded obediently, putting the cap John had given to him back atop his head.

'We will be gone for a couple of hours, you know how these meetings go.' Mrs Bates told her son. 'There's another cake I baked for us in the cabinet, if you're hungry before we get home.'

'Don't worry, Mother, we will manage a couple of hours without the two of you.' John smiled down at the boy, and Johnny couldn't help but giggle. 'Let's go, lad, we have a lot of work to do!'

The two women waved goodbye and John and Johnny walked to the garage, sure they would find John's late father's gardening tools in there.

'My father used to store all his things here.' John explained as he opened the door to the garage. It was stuck for the lack of use and he had to pull extra hard to have it open. His leg wouldn't thank him for that later, but he didn't really care. Working on the garden would probably be much worse but that wouldn't stop him being productive rather than dragging himself around in the house and be sorry for his life. He was done with that...her light was already illuminating his way. 'There we are!' he said, trying to see into the darkness.

'Where's the light?' Johnny asked, unsure whether to step in.

'Somewhere...wait here.' John ventured into the garage, he knew there was a string that was connected to a single hanging light bulb somewhere, maybe it still worked. He certainly hoped so, else he would need a torch…. 'Oh here it is and it works! Brilliant!'

'Look, Mr Bates!' the boy pointed excitedly. 'It's a car!'

'Oh my…' John walked further in the garage, taking a good look at the old and rusty thing. 'I thought Father had got rid of it…' he whispered to himself.

'Does it work?' Johnny asked, running towards the motor with curious eyes. 'It's old!'

'Shall we give it a try?' The boy nodded with a broad smile on his face and soon they were both sitting inside of the car, ready and expectant. John turned the key then, he had found it laying on the driver's seat, but all that was heard was the sound of the motor barely turning over.

'Oh god!' John pursed his lips, trying to turn the key again. The same sound, harsh and loud piercing through their ears, together with the smell of rusty smoke. 'The battery is dead, for one thing, I'm afraid.'

'Dead?' Johnny asked. 'What killed it?'

John laughed at the boy's words. 'The lack of use really. It needs to be fixed. We'll need to charge the battery or get a new one. This salty air from the sea is not good for the motor either, it's probably rusty, and worn out.'

'Mr Kenneth has a car...maybe he knows how to fix it?' the boy replied. 'He doesn't see very well though…'

'He sees better than you think, believe me. But, I can fix it. I know how to.' John said, taking the key out and looking around the garage.

'You do?' Johnny asked, impressed.

'Yes.' John exited the car. 'I was a mechanic when I lived in London.'

'When you were married to that wicked creature?'

John looked at the boy with a serious expression on his face, which immediately turned into a grin. The boy stared at him unsure if his words had been wrong. Mummy wouldn't be happy if he had said something bad… 'Those are Mrs. Bates' words, aren't they?'

Johnny nodded shyly and John shook his head. 'Come on, let's find the tools we need, or we'll be still here when they get home.' He helped the boy getting out of the car and patted his head as he did so. Before too long, they gathered all the tools they needed, pieces of wood that were stored in there as well, and they headed to the garden, ready to give it a fresh face once more.

 **xxxx**

'Oh...I see your thoughts are far away from here.' Mrs Bates whispered to Anna as they sat on chairs listening to the old woman talk about wounded soldiers and orphan children.

'I'm sorry,' Anna said.

'Oh no, don't apologise. As much as I want to help those poor souls, I know how boring Mrs. Lloyd can be,' the older woman chuckled. 'I am sure they are all right.'

'I'm not worried… I know Mr. Bates can manage it.'

'I know you do.' Mrs. Bates smiled at Anna. 'I am glad you two are getting along so well. I never doubted you would, but it's nice to see.'

'Me too.' Anna smiled at her hands. 'Mr. Bates is a good man.'

'And you are a good woman, you know…' Anna looked at her friend, confused. 'We often dwell on mistakes that make us no less than anyone else. You know the difference between good people and bad people, Anna? It's not their actual actions but that feeling of regret that pierces through one's heart. That feeling is often felt by little mistakes that have nothing to do with one's ways, you know, mistakes made by foolishness, many of them disguised as love. Bad people don't feel regret, and when you don't regret your mistakes they are often so much bigger and graver, and they reflect exactly who you are.'

Anna nodded, trying her best to suppress her tears. 'You are no less honourable than these women here. You may think you are, but you are not. Actually, most of these women wouldn't have been so strong and brave, and loving. Don't forget that you deserve everything that your heart wishes. Everything. It's time you stop regretting what you did. It's been almost six years...you had your share of tears already. It's over.'

'What about you, Mrs. Bates, what do you think about the idea?' Mrs Lloyd asked.

'To send toys and clothes to the orphans? I think it's a wonderful idea!'

 **xxxx**

'Can you hand me the hammer now?' John asked. 'And hold the board like so...are you holding it? Strong.'

'Yes, Mr. Bates,' the boy replied, as he focused on his task.

Two hours had passed quickly, and the fence was looking ship shape. All the broken pieces had been replaced, and a lick of paint would make it look good as new. There was the familiar salty breeze from the sea filling their lungs and the heat of the sun poking now and then between those heavy clouds, their shadow a blessing as they worked hard and sure.

Mr Grail had walked past them, with his hundreds of sheep running down the hill, searching for a fresher grass in the afternoon, followed by his barking dogs, trying their best to control the animals, and surprisingly succeeding. The shepherd was an old man, around seventy years old, and an old friend of John's late father. He had freckles on his face and a rough tan around his sparse beard, marking deeply the lines of his features, and making his white hair turn yellowish every time the sun shone.

'Workin' on Reade's garden, I see...he would be happy, ya know!' he told them, resting his chin on his hands, as they were supported on his staff.

John smiled down at his work, nodding.

'And that dog...he would be a good sheep dog. Your mum wouldn't give him to me, of course. I've asked.'

Macbeth was sitting next to Johnny, ignoring the sheep and the other barking dogs, obediently behaving under John's command to sit still.

'I think he fancies children more than sheep, Mr Grail, or seagulls.' John remarked.

'Good training would make him fancy sheep, all right. Just painting and planting now, hm?'

'Yes, but I'm afraid painting has to wait...I reckon is going to rain soon.' John looked up to the sky.

'If I'm not wrong, and I never am, it will rain tomorrow for a week or so…' the old man replied. 'Better get going, me sheep won't wait for their master. Afternoon!'

'When can we paint the fence?' Johnny asked after the man was gone.

'Maybe next week if the rain stops...it's not too bad like this, at least it's not broken.'

'And plant?'

'I'm afraid planting will have to wait. We have to till the soil first, and pull all the old brush and weeds...and then wait for the right time to start planting. A garden has a lot to say, you know, you just can't start planting...there's rules to follow.' John patted the boy's shoulder. 'Now, see all those weeds? You could start pulling them out by their roots.'

'Yes, Mr. Bates!'

When Anna and Mrs. Bates arrived home later that afternoon, they found the two of them working outside, gathering all the waste into a pile to burn. John was wearing nothing but his trousers and undershirt, his suspenders hanging from his waistband, swaying with his movements. The thin white fabric covering his torso, clinging to his skin after half a day of hard work and sweat, and a lock of dark hair falling onto his brow. He didn't see them at first, too concentrated on his job, and that gave her the time to admire him for a moment more.

When he fell that one morning and she found him on the floor of his room shirtless, she had tried to avoid looking at his body as much as she could, not wanting to add any more embarrassment to his situation, but now... she regretted it. She still remembered the glimpses of dark hair covering his chest, and how breathless she had been as she tried her best not to be too obvious about it. But in all the distress and the sight of him bleeding and the shattered lamp, between trying to help him stand and making sure he was all right, all that had been forgotten. Only later at night, when she had fallen asleep after their star gazing, she had let herself think of him again, in a physical way. And now, as she stared at him working, the memory of that morning came to her mind, as strong and vivid as if she were there again, in his room.

'Oh my, you have been working hard!' His mother's voice broke the spell. 'Look at them!'

When Anna looked over to her son, her eyes widened in surprise 'What's this?' she asked.

'I was hot,' Johnny answered her from where he stood, a shovel in his hand and a sure look on his face. He too, was only wearing his undershirt and trousers, his shorter suspenders falling at each side of his body.

John clapped his hands together, trying to get rid of some dirt, before resting them on his hips, looking at the women with a smile on his face. The boy did exactly the same.

'I hope you don't mind.' John told Anna eyeing the boy. 'It is rather hot working here.'

'I don't mind.' she replied, smiling back at him. 'Why don't you go inside and wash your hands, you must be hungry!'

'I am,' Johnny nodded, rubbing his stomach and running inside with Mrs. Bates.

'I'll go in a minute. I just want to burn this pile before going in. Can't leave this in the rain,' John said and Anna nodded walking toward the house. She came back a few minutes later with a glass of water for him.

'Water?' she offered approaching him.

'Thank you,' he grinned down at her, accepting the glass and taking it from her hand, their fingers touching briefly, gently, slowly, and their eyes locking once again. There were no words in that moment, as they faced each other with equally fascinated eyes, that a touch so soft could be so intense. When she dared looked down at their hands, she saw him lingering there, his fingers caressing her knuckles tenderly as if he was telling everything that his heart felt. She looked up a second later, his eyes were still on her, a gentle smile graced his features, and he took the glass from her.

'Johnny said you found your father's old car in the garage.' She broke their silence, his gaze so strong she didn't know what else to do, or better, she didn't have the courage to do anything else in that moment.

'We did,' he nodded, drinking the water.

'And you are going to fix it up?'

'I worked as a mechanic when I lived in London, and in the army too when needed.'

'Mrs. Bates had mentioned it...' she took a deep breath looking down at her shoes.

'Maybe it will be good for you.' She looked at him again, her eyes questioning. 'When the weather changes. You aren't going to work on that bicycle, are you?'

'I don't know how to drive though,' she smiled.

'Well, I can teach you! It's not that hard. You'll be good at it.'

Anna nodded shyly as he handed the glass back, and turned to tend the fire.

'Isn't that dangerous?' she asked.

'Not like this. I have it under control. It's not a big pile either, there's no breeze now and it's almost burned already.'

'Mr. Bates, tea's ready!' Johnny called from the kitchen window, waving at him with a smile on his face.

'Mr. Bates…' Anna chuckled. 'He doesn't even care about me anymore.'

'He adores you,' John grinned. 'You're a wonderful mother.' He walked ahead then, leaving her behind.

Anna looked around at the work Mr. Bates and Johnny had accomplished together, and her thoughts went back to his mother's words from earlier in the day. How sincere and truthful they sounded. The words Anna herself claimed as her own beliefs, except when it came to judging her own acts, her own sins...and still, at times like this, when she looked at him and wondered, what if things were slightly different, for both of them? She thought of that brief touch of fingers, how it seemed to have lasted more than just a couple of seconds, as if time itself had stopped only to grace them with that endless moment. She still felt the warmth of his fingers against her skin, and the hairs of her body were still standing, as if his touch had been nothing but a gentle breeze.

Maybe this was all part of their string of coincidences, and if things had happened in another way they would have never met...and for the first time in her life, she stopped regretting.

 **xxxx**

'We have to paint the fence and then…' Johnny talked nonstop about his day, telling his mother all about the plans John had for the garden, as Anna dressed him after his bath before bed. '...we will plant herbs and we can brew our own tea!' the boy told her excitedly.

'I see you had a wonderful day.' Anna smiled at her son, slipping his pajamas' top over his head.

'Yes! Mr. Bates and I worked hard, but hard work is good for the soul, you know.'

Anna giggled. 'Those are Mr. Bates words, aren't they?' The boy nodded, smiling and she couldn't help but place a loud kiss on his forehead. 'Under the sheets, little man. It's too late for all this chit-chat,' she smiled.

Johnny did as she said, grabbing his little bear and laying it on his pillow beside him before his mother tucked him cosily under the blanket.

'Now, what story do you want tonight?' she asked, but instead of answering eagerly as he always did, the boy pursed his lips and fiddled with his fingers. 'What's the matter, darling?'

'I wouldn't mind if Mr. Bates was my daddy,' he whispered, and Anna's heart stopped in her chest. 'Why isn't he my daddy?'

'Johnny…' she sighed, defeated. 'He's not because your daddy is Richard, don't you know that?'

'But Richard isn't here,' the boy pleaded. 'Mr. Bates could be in his place.'

'Darling...it's not like that. That's not how things work.'

'How do they work then?'

Anna looked around trying to find a possible explanation. She knew too well this day would come, when Johnny would start asking more about his father, but all she could do now, was to take a deep breath and try her best to settle her son. 'You are not the only boy whose father died in the war, my love. There's many boys like you, and I know that makes you sad but there is nothing we can do. Now, go to sleep… Mr. Bates is your friend, isn't he?'

Johnny nodded, not too pleased with his mother's answer.

'Well then, that will have to do. I know you like him very much, but there are certain things that we can't change, no matter how much we want them to. Just be thankful that you are here and that Mr. Bates is your friend, all right?'

When Anna left the room, the boy sat up in bed, making sure he could hear her steps more and more distant in the corridor. He looked over to his nightstand then, where a photograph of his late father stood facing him, the only reminder he had of the man. He had never seen his father outside this frame, dressed in his army uniform and with a smile in his face that didn't quite reach his eyes, and before Johnny could think twice, he took the picture and faced it the to the wall, sighing forlornly. He didn't really know why he did that, or maybe he only did it because he needed to learn how to respect the man who he had never had the chance to call father.

Johnny would learn how to respect him, and that frame would be facing him again, soon.

 **xxxx**

John thought of her as he rested in the tub. The steamy water dampening his hair and warming the chilly air of the night... almost as warm as her skin had been. Wonderfully soft. Her fingers so delicate against his, and her eyes had never seemed so sure. They had been grey matching the cloudy day, and her hair neatly tied in a bun. Her smile was always the same, really, always so full of life and hope, urging him to tell her everything his heart wished to unveil. But every time he ventured to do just that, there was always a voice pulling him back, telling him to stop. Telling him she was too precious to be broken in such a harsh way, again.

He was toxic. A man with a dark past and too many mistakes for her. He was getting old and wasted and he had nothing but troubles and nightmares to offer her. He loved her so much already, and he hoped she would see in him nothing but a good friend. He could dream of her at night and laugh with her during the day. She would probably find a man one day, so much better than him, and she would go away with her son never to come back. They would write letters and remain friends. Yes, he could live with that, painfully, but he could. All he wanted was for her to be happy, no matter how far away from him.

But his love was answered back just as strong, and the day when he would look at her and know he would rather die than to let her go wouldn't be long in coming. On that same day he would begin to free himself from all his past mistakes. On that same day she would tell him exactly how she felt.

* * *

 _ **Next Chapter:** While John fixes the car, Anna fixes his soul. _

_Thank you for reading :) Please review._


	6. Summer Rain

_**A/N:** Good evening everyone! I am sorry for the delay, last week was just insane! I am all over the place (you can mostly blame Downton for that) but I am trying to organise myself atm. I hope I can go back to post every Friday, I like it better that way. We shall see :) Thank you so much for your reviews. They make me so happy!_

 _And to answer the **Guest** who asked about John's dad: I will tell the characters' story little by little, actually, in this chapter we will learn more about Mr Bates and Anna as well. I always answer to the questions I throw at you, readers, and I hope you are content with all of them by the end :) Thank you for your interest though, I always love when you speculate, and you guys are REALLY good at it btw xD_

 _ **Disclaimer:** Same as chapter 1-5._

* * *

 **\- Summer Rain -**

"... _together, with my prayers and wishes of best of luck, I send you a photograph of Anna to lighten up your darkest days. I know that the image of a beautiful woman does wonders for a man's lonely heart, and you ought to get used to her if you end up moving back home once again, as you told me you would. Don't think I'll forget that._

 _May God watch over your every step and guide you to safety through the enemy's fire._

 _Your Loving Mother, Margaret Bates."_

John smiled down at his mother's letter before folding the paper back into its envelope. The window was opened and he sat at his desk, the smell of morning sea burning through his nose as the salty wind blew strong. The new day hadn't brought sunlight. Instead, heavy and dark clouds graced the sky, fusing with the deep grey of the ocean. He liked it this way though. Sea and heaven one and the same, as if nothing was beyond and he could actually reach the edge of the world. Rusty colours and harsh watery smells. The sound of thunder echoing over the land.

A nightmare had awakened him not long ago. Maybe the brewing storm had triggered its intensity. It took him back to France that night. Most of his friends dead, the ones alive crying and praying and begging their enemy for mercy. The smell of wet dirt all around him and her picture burning from the inside pocket of his uniform. He fell to the ground, excruciating pain, longing for a glimpse of her, her name on his lips... a weak whisper was all he could manage… He was awake the second after, sweating and his heart racing. The first thing that came to his mind were his mother's letters, and of course, _Anna._

Gathering the letters in a pile now, he stored them back in the drawer of his desk, ready to start his day with a good shave and a mug of black coffee, and then tea. Fresh, aromatic tea...the way Anna made it. Maybe if he asked her, without giving too much away, she would do it for him instead.

The rain began to pour as he shaved, and not twenty minutes later he was back in his room to dress for the day. The house was awake now, and the sound of the women's and Johnny's voice made their way from downstairs to his room. Muffled, cheery voices that put back the smile on his face. This house was so alive now with this peculiar little family of theirs. Two mothers and two sons...he had never thought of it like that before.

He took a clean white shirt from his wardrobe and black trousers, and to keep himself warm on this chilly summer day, an old jumper he used to wear when he worked as a mechanic in London. He decided then and there that he should invest in some new clothes in the future. Anna had been right. New life, new habits.

As he made to leave the room, he realised something was missing...something he would always carry with him no matter where he went. Her photograph.

His eyes roamed the room in search of the shirt he had worn the day before. He had hung it on his chair, but to his surprise, and shock, it was nowhere to be found. The picture was in the pocket and a feeling of dread ran through his veins. He remembered his mother telling him the night before she had been collecting the laundry in his room. How could he have forgotten about something so important to him? Something he always carried right next to his heart. A mere piece of paper that would burn every time he thought of her, as a reminder that she would belong there, craved inside his being until the last of his days.

He walked down the stairs as fast as he could, his cane forgotten in his room, hoping he would be in time to save his charm from being ruined by water, and entered the kitchen where his mother was, ready to start preparing breakfast.

'Mother!' his eyes were wide and distressful, and that made Mrs. Bates' expression turn grave.

'Whatever is the matter-'

'Where's the shirt that was hanging on the back of my chair?' he asked desperately.

'I took some of your clothes to wash last night, I told you. In fact, Anna is in the laundry filling the tub…oh goodness me!'

John ran past his mother to an adjoining room, where a big laundry tub was was situated. But when he entered the little room he froze...the photograph was in her hands, as she looked at her own picture with confused eyes. Anna was kneeling on the floor, his clothing piled in front of her, the water pouring into the tub.

She didn't see him at first, and for a moment he daren't to move as the look on her face grew more pensive with every second. He took a deep breath then, and ducked under the clotheslines strung from one end of the room to the other. His steps towards her enough to give his presence away.

'Mr. Bates!' She stood up at once, her heart jumping in her chest, the photograph still in her hands. 'I was going through your pockets to make sure they were empty…' her voice was unsure and she tried to avoid his eyes. 'Here. I found this. ' She handed him the picture.

'Thank you...I...I was afraid it would get wet and ruined,' he answered back, taking the photograph in his hands. 'Mother sent it to me,' he told her looking at it, his thumb tracing her features as if he were talking only to her image.

'She said she would. I just...I just didn't know you still had it.'

He looked at her with soft eyes, a shy smile peaking across his lips. 'Of course I do. Do you think I would throw it away?'

'It was in your pocket…' she shrug her shoulders, hesitant. 'You carry it with you?'

John nodded looking down at his charm again, the shy smile turning into a secure one. 'I do. Always.'

 **xxxx**

'Keep your hands apart, like this,' Mrs. Bates said, positioning Johnny's hands with her own. 'Now, you stay still and I will wrap the yarn 'round them, all right?'

The boy nodded obediently as he sat in front of her on a little stool. The radio was playing a catchy tune, stammering every time thunder erupted from the sky. The rain was strong and merciless against the window panes.

'Do you know, Johnny, my son used to sit on that same stool when he was as young as you are, and I would spend hours wrapping and wrapping...his arms would go weak but he never quit.'

'I won't quit either, Mrs. Bates.'

'I know you won't.' She smiled down at the boy over her spectacles. 'Oh do you smell it? I reckon your mother is baking a cake!'

'A chocolate one?' the boy asked enthusiastically.

'Oh yes. It will be done by the time we finish this. We will have to call John in from the garage once it's done. It's his favourite.'

'Mrs. Bates?' The boy looked at the older woman with a rather curious expression on his face, and she knew she would have to prepare herself to answer to his questions. 'Why are you Irish?'

'Ha! Because I was born in Ireland, what else?' the older woman chuckled.

'Is that why you sound different from everyone else?'

'You sound different from everyone else too, don't you?'

'That's because I was born in Yorkshire, like my mummy.' he explained, trying to focus on keeping his hands in the right position at the same time.

'And I was born in Ireland, that's why.'

'Did your mummy have to leave Ireland to work here?'

'My mother lived all her life in Ireland and she wouldn't have it any other way. In fact, she didn't want me to move here...she didn't even know I had until the next day.'

The boy looked at her with a confused look on his face.

'Let me tell you...many years ago, more than forty, goodness me...I was a young lass, a pretty one, mind you, and my mother was in a hurry to have me married, but fussy me wouldn't have any of the young men I was presented to. All I wanted was to be a teacher, and I was for about two years in a local school,' she continued to wind the wool around the boy's hands. Her eyes were distant recollecting the past, and Johnny stared at her attentively, listening to every word she said. 'Then one day, a very good looking Scotsman came to visit a distant cousin of his, and two months after that I was here, married and living in this house.'

'Who was the good looking Scotsman?' Johnny asked.

'Reade, my late husband. It was love at first sight and I wouldn't have any other man,' she sighed, smiling as the memories rushed through her mind.

'You eloped! Like the princess from that book?' Johnny's eyes shone with excitement.

'Precisely.' The woman composed the spectacles on her nose before continuing her task. 'I told my mother he was interested, that he wanted to marry me, but she wouldn't have it. " _A red haired lad living on an isle not bigger than my thumb?! Over my dead body, Margaret Kane!"_ That's what she said. And I knew she would never accepted it. Mother was a hard bone to chew, not even Father could round her. So, Reade told me to run away with him, and I did.'

'On a white horse?' The boy's eyes grew wide at that idea.

'On a white horse?' Mrs. Bates laughed. 'On a dirty old ferry, at twenty past eleven, on a very rainy night. As soon as we hit the land we caught a train to Edinburgh and we were getting married the next morning. Only had a small bag with my belongings, that was all I had. We travelled here then, and my mother-in-law didn't even know I existed, but she received me with open arms and a courage of steel. A month later Reade's uncle passed away and we moved to this house. He was the lighthouse keeper, you know, childess, and Reade always wanted to follow his steps. And not too long after that John was born, and I started teaching the children in the school your own mother teaches in now.' She smiled. 'And that's why I'm Irish.'

'Mummy moved here because Richard died and she had to work.' Johnny told looking down.

'Richard? Your father, you mean?' Mrs. Bates asked and the boy nodded.

'He's not really my father though,' Johnny said solemnly.

'Oh, is he not? I reckon you always have a father for good.'

'Yes but...he's not really because he never was.'

'Oh my, you ought to explain that better, young man.'

'I never saw him.' The boy pursed his lips. The wool which wound around his hands was growing heavy making his arms feel tired. 'Mr. Bates is here though.'

'He is indeed…' the older woman eyed the boy for a moment. 'You know your father went to the same war John did?'

'But Mr. Bates came back. Richard didn't.'

'Son, I am sure if he could, he would have chosen to come back, but it wasn't his time. No man goes to war wishing to die. He went to fight for his King and Country, as John did, but in times like those, luck is stronger than prayer, and Richard didn't have any.'

'But…' the boy looked towards the door to the hall, making sure they were alone. 'I wish Mr. Bates was my father instead.'

'If he was your father instead, you wouldn't be yourself. Believe yourself lucky to be alive now, and that John is your friend. If the tiniest of things was different you wouldn't be here today.'

'The cake is ready!' Anna announced leaning against the door frame with a smile on her lips. 'I think I did good. It is huge!'

'Oh I am sure you did, my dear. Come on, lad, we'll finish all this later.'

'I already called, Mr. Bates. He's coming,' Anna told them as Johnny ran past her, eager to have the first slice of cake on his plate. 'I also made tea,' she said, as she walked with Mrs. Bates back to the kitchen.

'Oh, John will like that,' the older woman chuckled as they entered the kitchen, the boy already in his place at the table.

 **xxxx**

From her window she could see the faint glow coming from the opened door of the garage. The rain had stopped for now and the air was impossibly humid and heavy. There was no light in the sky - no stars, no moon, only deep darkness, announcing another coming storm. For a moment she stood there, wondering what thoughts ran through his own mind. Wondering if perhaps he was thinking about her. The photograph in his pocket had almost been a sign to her, that somehow, everything that she felt was answered back just the same, between secrets smiles and longing glimpses, and lonely nights divided only by the walls of their bedrooms. But deep inside her heart, that sign, although welcomed, wasn't needed. Deep inside she knew. The tenderness in his eyes, the easiness of his smile, his gentleness around her. He did love her back.

Did he know, though? Did he know she loved him? Should she tell him she did?

Anna knew life. Yes, she was young, but she had experienced quite her share of living. She was no fool, she was not weak. She had a courage within her that would often surprise even herself.

Maybe she should tell him. He had the right to know that he was still so able to be loved when he thought the complete opposite. Maybe she should open up about it and lift all this feeling of helplessness that grew inside her every time she saw him. A helplessness nurtured by the simple fact of not being able to tell him everything she felt. To know they shared more than just furtive touches, more than hidden emotions.

A clap of thunder rang through her ears. Dry and sure, piercing through her window, and the electric feeling of it shouted for her to move, as if everything around her knew exactly what she wanted. She left room then, checking on her son to be sure he was sound asleep. In the kitchen she brewed some tea, the way she knew John liked it. Taking a deep breath, she took two mugs and walked outside. As she neared the garage, the heavens burst and the rain began to fall again.

'Hello,' she walked in, her voice quiet and a shy smile on her face. John was under the car, laying on the floor with his legs poking out. She chuckled at the sight. 'Still working?'

Somehow, she felt him smiling even before she could see his face, and slowly he came from under the motor, a lit torch in his hand, only to prove her right.

'No rest for the wicked,' he said as he stood up with a small grimace. His bad leg was sore today, more than usual, maybe due to the weather and the fact that he hadn't been resting it as much as he should.

'I've brought you some tea.' She handed him his mug, sitting down on an old crate next to the car, and he joined her there.

'You always come to my aid,' he chuckled looking down at his mug. 'It's like you know exactly what I need and when I need it.'

'Maybe I do,' she grinned.

John took a sip at his tea before a long sigh escaped him. 'I don't know what you thought about me having your photograph in my pocket but...I want you to know that...' he looked at her then, only for a second, her gaze too much for him to bear at a moment like this, '...I don't want you to feel awkward about it.' He shook his head unsure of what else to say.

'Not awkward,' she spoke. 'Intrigued. It is nice to know that...I am dear to you.' The words left her mouth without second thought, and for some reason that made her feel better about herself. She knew too much thinking always made things look rather foggy, as if reason did everything but clear one's mind. She was her true self with him. Honest, with nothing to hide.

He chuckled shyly. She was so much more than that. She was life really. His saviour.

'When mother sent it to me, I kept it in my pocket and it's been like a charm almost.' He hoped he didn't sound too ridiculous. 'Your photograph was my memory of home when I most needed it.'

'I'm glad I could help, even without being there.'

'More than you can imagine…' they looked at each other, smiling, and he found himself staring at her lips, wet from her tea. He cleared his throat then, looking out of the door, trying to keep his mind closed off from her once again. 'We're getting the rain now.'

'Johnny is so excited about the garden.' She noticed his need to change the subject. 'He can't stop talking about it.'

'I'm afraid he'll have to wait. It's not time to plant anything now and with all this rain...'

'Oh I told him that but still...I think he dreams about it at night,' she giggled.

'Children like those sorts of things.'

'Yes, but I've never been good at it. My father used to spend the afternoons with my brother, and mother ironed for some families, I was never taught how to. You see, my brother is eighteen years older than I am, mother didn't even know she was pregnant until she started showing. They were not expecting another child, didn't have the life for that. I was sort of…raised in a hurry, I suppose.'

'I didn't know that.' John furrowed his brow, interested. 'I thought you were an only child.'

'No. Ben lives down the road from my parents. He's married with three children now.'

'He's not at war?'

'He is. I mean, I think he is. We don't keep in contact anymore since I moved,' she sighed.

'Why not?'

'He went off to war and...I guess mother told him terrible things about me, maybe. I mean, she told him the truth.'

'Your truth is not that terrible, is it?' he asked.

Anna shrug her shoulders.

'You shouldn't be so harsh on yourself, Anna.'

'I'm not anymore,' she smiled. 'Why didn't you have children?' The question caught him by surprise. 'Only because, you are a natural, as Mrs. Bates would say.'

'Vera, she didn't want children, and well, me neither to be honest. I soon found out I hadn't married the most loving of women and for that reason I thought a child would never be happy with us. I was right. Probably the only time I was right in all my life. You have a hard time believing my foolishness, but there you have it.' He laughed at himself.

'You shouldn't be so harsh on yourself.' She shot him a look. 'Your only sin was to think you were in love.'

'That's far from the truth. That wasn't my only sin.' He looked down, disappointed in himself.

'Honestly,' she shook her head with a smile. 'You can't be that bad, Mr. Bates. I know I shouldn't care what I found about you,whatever it was. I wouldn't alter my opinion one bit.'

Now that was it, wasn't it? That was what he feared the most. In her playful words she proved to him exactly why he stepped back from her every time they grew closer. To learn about all his past mistakes, all his dark moments in life. All about his shame. He couldn't bear it. He wouldn't bear it - the disappointment on her face as he told her about all that he was. But still, her words rang true. Nothing he told her would change the way she thought of him. And that bothered him, because it should. Telling her the truth would be the best he could do.

'But it would…' he sighed heavily. 'It certainly would... and it should.'

Before she could ask him why, another thunder clap was heard, and their eyes met in nervous haste.

'God, that gave me a fright,' she giggled, bringing one hand to her chest, and she knew the spell was broken. No matter what it was he was keeping secret, the time for revelations had passed. 'So, how's the car doing? Were you able to fix it?'

'I was just checking some things out, really. Did a bit of cleaning. It will need a couple of new parts, I'm afraid. A battery charge as well or a new one. It's quite old and rusty because of the humidity, but I think I can fix it.' He took a last sip of his tea before standing. 'I'll have to go to mainland to buy the parts and all that. Maybe next week.'

Anna nodded, smiling. 'We better go in. It must be past midnight already, and the rain has slowed down.'

'Lets run then,' he told her and she looked at him. 'I mean, you run and I follow.' He smiled, and she had to chuckled at his words, running as fast as she could through the rain and waiting for him when he met her inside.

'How's your writing going?' she asked him as they walked up the stairs, their voices mere whispers in the night.

'Actually...not bad.'

They stopped at her bedroom door. A moment of silence between them before their eyes met once again between darkness and the soft sound of the rain outside. 'Goodnight, Mr. Bates.'

'Goodnight, Anna,' John whispered.

Not half an hour later he was washed and ready for bed, but instead, he sat at his desk, his journal opened. The pen in his hand was itching, but not for his usual recording of his day...this time, for a letter. A letter that would never be sent, but found, and repeated out loud from his own lips. He breathed in and began to write…

" _Anna,_

 _There is nothing worse than living with false hope. There is nothing worse than when someone you admire is not admirable. I am not. I am nothing but a lie hiding behind this mask of respectability that I try so hard...too hard to portray. I am nothing, Anna, and I will tell you precisely what you need to know about me..."_

* * *

 _ **Next Chapter:** Family trip to the mainland. _

**_Thank you for reading :)_**


	7. The Best Of Luck

_**A/N:** Good evening everyone! Look at me posting on a Friday again! Honestly, I couldn't have done it without my super cool beta, **terriejane** , who worked so fast and hard for me to be able to post it tonight! Thank you so much, my dear xXXx_

 _I know I'm always thanking you guys for your support, but I can't thank you all enough, so there xD It makes me so happy to know that you are enjoying reading this fic, because I sure love writing it!_

 _Hope you all have a grand weekend! Enjoy xXx_

 _ **Disclaimer:** Same as chapter 1-6. _

* * *

**\- The Best Of Luck -**

The ferry cut through the cold waters under an angry sky. It was Sunday morning, almost nine thirty, and the rain was heading into its second week. That was not unusual for this part of the world, but now, as they were heading to the mainland, the clouds did seem to be lifting a bit.

'Thank you for inviting us,' Anna spoke, breaking the silence between the two of them.

Johnny and Mrs Bates were seated near a window towards the front, trying to spot the usual group of whales that swam around the area, leaving Anna and John alone, sitting across from each other.

He looked up from the newspaper one of the ferry staff men had lent him, with a easy smile on his lips. 'A change of surroundings is good, even if only for a day. And then, it would be silly to come alone when I can bring company.'

'I thought company was a word not often used by you,' she challenged him.

'And you are right…' he sighed contently, looking back at his paper. She had a way of playing with him, to his most inner thoughts that, if he dare say, excited him, as if she was triggering his flame to burn even stronger, even more enthusiastically. ' _Was_ not. But is now,' he continued.

'And what's changed your mind?'

 _You did._

'Mummy, Mummy! I spotted big Duncan! He's huge!' The boy ran to his mother's lap. 'Huge!'

'The biggest whale, they say, and I don't doubt that.' Mrs Bates remarked, sitting down beside John. 'Not as big as Moby Dick, I reckon.'

'Oh my, aren't you lucky?' Anna squeezed Johnny against her chest, placing a loud kiss atop his head. 'Duncan doesn't show off very often.'

'It's good luck, you know.' Mrs. Bates spoke. 'It's not every day you can spot him, and when you do, it means you will have plenty of luck in your life. It's a legend really, a local saying, but I believe it

'A legend?!' Johnny's eyes grew big as he heard to Mrs. Bates words. For a curious boy like him, a good story was something that couldn't be missed, and the older woman knew too well how to entertain him.

'Story tells that many years ago, before my husband's time, there was a nasty storm, one that will always be remembered…' she began. '...the fishermen were at sea, and it came quite suddenly, the sky turning as dark as night and the waves almost as high as the cliffs. Death was certain, really, they knew it and they were ready to take it, but then, they saw it... the blue whale, swimming around them, embracing the storm as if it was nothing. They say one of the men begged the animal for help, to show them the way to land again…' Anna and Johnny listened attentively to the older woman's words, while John pretended to be oblivious of the conversation, reading the paper. 'It was Duncan, later named, and he looked at that man in the eye and began to swim right in the opposite direction. Doing the best they could to control the boats, they followed him, they had nothing to lose, it was death or death for them, and when the whale showed up again from under the sea, they saw land in the horizon, and they were all able to ashore safe and sound. All four boats.'

'Oh my, really?' Anna asked impressed.

'Oh yes, since that day we have been blessed with an abundance of fish. Fishermen don't have to distance themselves too much anymore, as they used to before. No man has died in the sea either. And as you know, fishermen all live a good life on our Isle, as good as lords.'

'Hardly,' John remarked, fixing his eyes on the words before him.

'It's an expression, John.' His mother rolled her eyes.

'If you ask me it's rotten luck. Gives you something and takes it back right away,' John said quite bitterly, folding the paper. 'I spent my childhood spotting him…that didn't work too well.

'Maybe your good luck is yet to come.' Anna replied, trying to make amends in big Duncan's place.

'Yes.' Mrs. Bates agreed. 'No one said when it would come. It does, one day, when you least expect. Everyone who's spotted Duncan has had luck in their life.' Margaret Bates was a defender of oral traditions and sayings. John knew better than to contradict her.

'Maybe…' he said, but his eyes were on Anna and her son. 'But I believe that luck is what you make it, and some people just don't know how to.'

The boy was sitting on his mother's legs, telling her all about how Duncan looked when he came just a little over the water to personally say hello to them. Her eyes shone at her son's tale, and John could see the amount of love she had the boy. A child that hadn't been planned but loved fully from the moment he cried his way into the world.

He suppressed a sigh then, looking outside of the window to see land approaching them slowly. Good luck that never happened, or even, that turned into the worst of luck...dreams that would never come true...a woman he loved sitting across him with a child that would never be his.

But in all the sad contemplation of his own life, John Bates couldn't have been more wrong.

 **xxxx**

'Have you got everything you need?' Mrs. Bates asked her son as he sat down at the table with them. They had been waiting in a cosy tearoom not far from the port, after enjoying a nice walk around town and a visit to a bookshop.

'I think I do. I mean...most of the parts will be sent over to the island in the next week or so. They have to order them. I bought the new battery though, they'll send it with the other stuff, it's too heavy to carry it back home,' he said.

'Would you like to order anything?' Anna asked him.

'Just tea, really.'

'What's next? Do you have any plans?' the older woman asked.

'Actually, I do. I…' he looked over at Anna with a shy smile on his face. 'I need to buy some new clothes, for my new life back on the island.'

'That's a very good idea!' Anna cheered, excitedly. 'We can help you shopping.'

'Oh you two go then,' Mrs. Bates said, clearing her throat before taking a sip at her tea. Her mind working on an excuse for her words. 'Johnny and I will go to the little park we spotted on our way here. I am sure he'll prefer playing to going shopping.'

'But you should go with your son,' Anna told her. 'I can stay-'

'Nonsense! My son would much prefer the taste of a modern girl like you than his old ma's. Plus, I don't fancy shopping, never did. Wouldn't you rather go play, Johnny?' the older woman asked the boy, in need of some support.

'Yes,' Johnny nodded, biting into his ham sandwich. 'I would like that very much!'

'Darling, don't speak with your mouth full,' Anna pleaded, raising her brow playfully at her son.

'That's it then. You two go. Leave the child and the old 'gull behind. Take as long as you need.'

'Well, if you don't mind…'

'She won't mind,' John added looking over at his mother with a knowing expression on his face. He knew too well what she was trying to do, but honestly, he didn't mind one bit.

 **xxxx**

'What about this one?' Anna asked, showing him a deep green jumper. 'You don't have a green one yet, do you?'

John pursed his lips. 'Green?' Anna held his cane because his arms were piled full of items of clothing she had been handing him to try on. 'No green yet, no,' he answered.

'I think this one would match your eyes.'

'My eyes aren't green,' he furrowed his brow, perplexed.

'They are when the sky is cloudy or when you look at the sea.' She turned around before handing him the jumper, continuing the quest for the best next piece of clothing she could find.

'I didn't know that,' John whispered, following her around. 'My father's eyes were like that.'

'You do look like your father,' she said. 'Except for the red hair and freckles.'

'I always wanted to have his red head when I was a boy...I admired him enough for that,' he chuckled.

'Well, you would always be handsome no matter what your hair colour was, but I'm glad you have dark hair.' She spoke oblivious of the meaning of her words, while browsing through some shelves. For him, his ears had shut out the world around them, and only her voice could be heard. 'I like it better, and it suits you well.'

He remained silent, his eyes on her. Her hair was neatly done today, as if this trip was something as fancy an upper class event, curled at the ends and with soft waves at the top, sprayed ever so slightly and smelling of roses. She had a bit of colour on her lips and cheeks, but nothing too daring, contrasting nicely with the navy blue of her draped dress. He liked her at every moment. She was beautiful in anything she wore, but blue had been made to be worn by her, as much as nights had been made for the two of them.

Little did he know she saw him staring at her lips every time she spoke, and that she knew when the wind blew he would watch as her hair was embraced by it. She knew her eyes matched this dress, and that the style accentuated her figure. She hadn't embellished herself for an upper class event... all her effort had been just for him.

'Mr. Bates?' her voice caught him by surprise this time, and for a second he didn't know where to look or what to say. _Had she seen him staring?_ 'Don't you want to try them on?'

'Oh, yes. I do,' he smiled awkwardly and walked to the fitting room, six or seven jumpers in his arms and two pairs of trousers.

'I'm afraid I overloaded you,' she giggled shyly. 'I never really shopped with a man before…'

'There's always a first time for everything,' he smiled.

'I'm glad it's you.'

'Why so?' he asked.

'You are kind enough to listen to my ramblings about fashion without running off.'

He shook his head, 'I would never run off from you.'

They both laughed sheepishly at his words, before their eyes met for a mere second. There were people passing by and talking around them. John walked in the fitting room, Anna waited outside.

In there, he sighed nervously, looking at all the clothing he would have to try. It'd been years since he last bought anything for himself, and now Anna was there, waiting for him to come out.

She was becoming more and more difficult to resist and the daring man he once was, was beginning to stir inside of him… he would have to tell her all about his past before it was too late. She was too dear to him. Too dear to be lied to.

'What do you think?' he came out for the seventh time, now wearing the green jumper that, apparently, matched his eyes.

'I was right!' she smiled happily, clapping her hands together. 'It looks so good.' She approached him then, touching the fabric of his sleeve. 'And it's very soft, isn't it? I hate when they itch.'

'It's very soft, yes…' he answered slowly, watching as her hand ran up and down his arm.

'Which one will you take?'

'Hmm…' he shook his thoughts away. 'I'll take this one, and the brown as well. And the brown trousers.'

'Oh yes! Those were the ones that suited you the best, although, everything looked good on you anyway,' she told him sincerely, and he blushed at her words, scratching the back of his head nervously.

'They sell nice clothes here.' He tried to avert the attention from himself.

'What about a coat?' Anna mentioned on their way to the counter to pay for his items.

'Oh, I have my winter coat, and I have a jacket. No need for that. I'm never too cold anyway.'

'Are you not?' She looked up at him.

'Not really, I've always enjoyed the cold.' John placed his purchases on of the counter. 'Two jumpers and a pair of trousers,' he said, turning to the man attending them.

'Very well, sir. We have a women's section at the left.' The cashier pointed. 'Maybe the missus would like to take a look?'

Anna and John looked at each other, without knowing what to say. Their faces turning red and hearts racing shyly in their chests. 'We're not married,' she replied.

'Oh! Oh...all right. My apology, I didn't mean to…'

'It's quite all right.' John managed a small constrained smile, his ears turning terribly hot. 'How much for the three pieces?'

He paid for his new clothing, and they left the shop in silence. A big bag in his left hand and his cane in the right, and he began to miss the sound of her voice and the easiness of their conversations. He looked over at her and she was smiling down at her feet, her hands held the strap of her handbag and she wore a flushed look on her face. That gave him the courage he needed to continue to talk.

'There's something about feeling the cool air against your face,' he breathed in. The sky was still grey and stormy looking. It would definitely start raining again by nightfall. 'That always appealed to me. Call me odd.'

'I like when it's cold too, freezing, your bones almost ache and you go inside and sit by the fire, a blanket on your legs and a hot cup of tea or cocoa. We can be odd together.' She continued to smile, looking down as they walked side by side to the park. Her steps matching his, never leaving him behind.

'I've always seen you as a Spring spirit,' he smiled.

'I'm an all year 'round spirit I suppose... I see beauty in every season.'

'You see beauty in everything you lay your eyes upon,' he told her softly, more as a thought than words meant to be shared.

Anna cleared her throat loudly, compelling him to look over at her.'The beauty is within one's soul. The eyes that see the world must be cleansed of hatred and revolt to be able to spot the best in every good and bad thing.'

John laughed heartily, shaking his head.

'Do you recognise these words?' she snickered.

'That's called plagiarism,' he said playfully.

'It's called turning your own words back at you because you should listen to what your heart says more often. The brain thinks but it's the heart that comes up with the best of life's lessons.'

'You know that the heart doesn't actually think, don't you?' he chuckled trying her, as he often did.

'As much as you know it does.'

John nodded then, the discussion over. She had won as usual, and how could she have not? Sometimes it was hard to believe that he had been the man behind those words. That at some point in his life he had been wise and brave and innocent. That he had looked at the world in the same way she did. Bad things happened, yes, to both of them, but for Anna, light was something from within, and in his case, he had to be shined upon instead. They were very similar but ever so different, and together they were complete.

'There they are!' Anna pointed toward Mrs. Bates and Johnny. The two of them were sitting on a bench in the park feeding some bread to a couple of ducks. 'Oh look! A photographer! I didn't know they still did that in the street.'

'They do it here still, it's very popular,' John told her.

'Well, we must have a picture taken, then.'

'What?' John looked at her almost in panic.

'That picture you have of me, it's very old and crumpled, we can take one together now.'

'Maybe you and Johnny, not me.' John shook his head.

'Don't be a spoil-sport,' she pouted, daring him. 'All right, the four of us then.'

John grinned. 'Why do you want me there?'

'Because there's no recent photograph of you. You should take one at least every year so you have memories to share.'

'To whom?'

Anna rolled her eyes at him, making him chuckle as she did so. 'Let's go, Mr. Bates! I dare you.'

'All right, all right,' he sighed, trying to look annoyed but that only made her laugh as she ran ahead of him to meet her son and Mrs. Bates.

'Oh my! What's all that?' the older woman asked, when she saw the bag John carried with him.

'Anna made me buy the whole shop. Spent all my savings there,' he joked, smiling over at the younger woman.

'And she did well! You have to start caring more about yourself,' his mother told him in a scolding manner.

'What did you two do while we were away?' Anna asked, crouching down towards her Johnny.

'I made two friends earlier and then Mrs. Bates bought some bread to feed the ducks.'

'And now we are having our picture taken!' Anna said excitedly. 'The four of us!'

'Oh my, what a good idea.' Mrs. Bates stood up at once. 'We should do it now. We have the last ferry to catch in a hour, don't forget.'

 **xxxx**

Mr. Grant took the picture. A very kind man with a golden tooth, whom Johnny would tell all his friends about back at home. A golden tooth and a German accent. John was the only one not fancying him.

'One more,' Mr. Grant offered. 'For free, Mr. Bates.'

John looked at the man with an unsure expression on his face. 'Come on, John. He's offering.' Mrs. Bates elbowed her son. 'Why don't you have one taken one with Anna? That would be nice, wouldn't it?'

'Oh yes!' the photographer agreed, smiling broadly. 'You two, yes, yes.'

'All right, then,' John said. The words leaving his mouth as raw as his heart felt them. Anna's smile had reached her eyes at the offer, making him unable to turn it down a second time. 'Come here, Anna.'

 **xxxx**

The seagulls followed the ferry on their way home, flying above his head as he stood on the deck, breathing in the salty breeze of the sea. John loved boats, sailing through the waves, knowing that anything could be possible ahead, while the unknown lived underneath his feet. It made him feel free, somehow, as if he was a sailor back in ancient times when the whole world was yet to be discovered. Maybe he had been, really, if he dared to believe in reincarnation.

Again, there was no clue where sea and sky began. The clouds filled with water, the thunder echoing in the distance, the past few hours playing again and again in his mind.

Anna had wrapped her arm around his and posed with the happiest of smiles on her face, and to his surprise, he had done just the same. He had almost been able recognise himself in that moment, the man he once was, full of life and hope and dreams. The same man from the photographs his mother had on her memory table. The man he longed to be again. Indeed a smile and the right person beside you can change your world around, and only for the better.

He was looking forward to having the photograph delivered, to see them together in that moment in time, frozen forever on paper and memory, to carry that new charm around, right next to his heart.

'You can get rid of the other one now.' Her voice came from behind him and he smiled, waiting for her to join him.

'I would never,' he told her, looking ahead. 'That picture saved my life.'

'Saved your life?' She was beside him then, impossibly close, their shoulders touching as they leaned onto the railing of the deck. 'How so?'

'In ways too meaningful for words to reason. In ways only a man facing death or unbearable pain could completely understand.'

'Maybe if you explained it to me…'

'I shouldn't.'

'Whyever not?'

John shook his head, sighing as he did so, and before their conversation could go any further, they heard the men from the port shouting as the ferry began to dock. 'Were are here. They must be looking for us,' he said, as he walked inside, but before he could run away from her for good, she held his arm to make him stop.

'I know too well not to push you, Mr. Bates.' He looked at her, surprised. A soft smile graced her features, no judgement or hard feeling. 'But one day you will explain it to me. I would like to know how I saved your life.'

Her words and actions left him speechless and this time she walked ahead of him, leaving him behind with his own thoughts.

Did he even know how to explain it, really? It had been something ethereal. Almost a religious experience, a miracle. John was not devoted to any god but he believed if he was it would be something like that. To hold something filled with energy in with one's hand, to see the brightness of a smile in a black and white photograph and know that that someone was so much more than anything else. He forgot many things during that time, due to his state of unconsciousness, but with every nightmare a piece of memory was rebuilt.

All he knew now was that explanations were needed, not only for her photograph but for the secrets that he held from her, and he decided then that he had one month, one month only, to tell her everything. If courage would fail him he would send her the letter he wrote, and he would hope for the best to come out of it. Maybe in all her kindness and compassion she would find the strength to look at him as she always did. Maybe his good luck would begin the second after he told her.

Plenty of good luck.

Anna had been right, his time was yet to come.

* * *

 _ **Next Chapter:** Feelings and secrets are unveiled when the letter is found before time is up_.

 _ **Thank you for reading! :)**_


	8. Because I Love You

_**A/N:** Good evening everyone! Another Friday, another chapter, and only two days to go for Downton's next episode. Oh my, the feels. I am loving series 6! _

_This is the chapter you all have been waiting for, I think ;) Feelings and secrets are unveiled and things will surely start to move forward between these two! I hope you enjoy, and wish you all a grand weekend!_

 _ **Disclaimer:** Same as chapter 1-7._

* * *

 ** _-_ Because I Love You _-_**

 _And there he laid, in the mud and rain and blood, with her picture clutched tight in his hand, and her image burned into his memory, waiting to die._

' _John...' a familiar yet unknown voice spoke to him. Slow and soft. The pain was suddenly gone and he was alone in the darkness. So dark and cold. Damp and sickened._

 _Her voice was distant yet surrounding him, and through the pitch black he tried his best to find her. Her eyes, her smile, one last glimpse before that eternal emptiness._

' _John.' It was all around him, and he swore he could smell the scent of roses. But how? How did he know what she smelled like? How could he even feel her perfume when he was here lying in the mud and blood and she was miles away? He was dying, he knew that, and before ever meeting her._

' _Where are you?' she asked and suddenly there was ground beneath his feet. She was coming through a door, in a blue and white dress, a shawl around her shoulders. Her hair was loose and she looked at him with expectant eyes. He saw himself there, out of his own body, in the midst of her beauty, in place he knew but now couldn't recall._

' _Anna?' he called her name almost in desperation. How could she be there? How could he be there? If she was alive and he was..._

' _What are you doing?'_

' _I...I think I'm dying,' he told her._

' _But you can't… I am waiting for you. Wake up, John. Wake up.'_

 **xxxx**

John sat up in bed, his heart racing. Another nightmare had haunted his sleep. France was still common ground, night after night and he was tired of that. He had spent quite enough time in that hell while awake... this was too much. This time, however, she had been there, and he could have sworn he could remember it as a memory now. It had felt so familiar to him, as if Anna herself had been right beside him in that moment, ready to take his hand and to bring him back to life. Was it her voice he had heard? How was that even possible, if the only proof of her existence was his mother's letters and a faded photograph on his pocket? How can a stranger come to you, in the middle of a battlefield, to take you out of eternal darkness?

Questions he didn't have an answer for. But he knew the truth in his heart, and it told him she had been there, she had saved him, she had been true even before she became real to him.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he felt the journal slip from his legs to the floor and the pen following right after. He remembered writing in bed last night before falling asleep, the smell of burnt candle still lingering in his room, the window closed, the curtains opened, and his lungs in need of fresh air.

He stood up then, walking to the window and opening it, letting the cool morning breeze in. Outside there was a thin drizzle enveloping the landscape, coming down from the dark and heavy clouds. One more day without sunshine. He didn't mind one bit.

Three weeks had passed since their trip to the mainland and time was running short. He had given himself one more week to tell her everything or he would have to send the letter...or maybe not even that. With every day it became more difficult. With every glance his courage shrunk in his chest, and somehow she knew it. He was sure she knew it. Perhaps she saw it in his eyes. Perhaps she felt it in her heart.

He sighed, sitting back down on bed, and leaning forward to take the journal and the pen from the floor. He held the book tight against his chest, knowing that the letter was there, hidden between its pages, and daren't to take another look. He stood and stored it in a drawer of his desk, turning the key twice to make sure no one would be able to find it. The pen he placed atop the table.

After getting ready for the day, shaving, washing up and getting dressed, he tucked the key in his shirt pocket together with her photograph and left the room, sure one more day would go by without any hard decisions to be made.

That wouldn't be the case though. One thorough look at his journal would have told him the letter wasn't between its pages anymore.

 **xxxx**

'What's all this?' John asked as he entered the kitchen later that day. The table filled with paper sheets and colour pencils, and three children sitting on chairs, working in concentration. His mother was standing at the counter, ready to put a cake in the oven, and the kettle was whistling urgently on the stove.

'Ah, John, we have grand visitors today!' Mrs. Bates said, whisking the batter with experienced skill. 'Can you please see to the kettle?'

'We're making cootie catchers!' Johnny replied gleefully.

'If you wait we can tell you your fortune, Mr. Bates.' Ailsa offered, her eyes focusing on the folded paper in her hands.

'Is that so?' John chuckled, throwing tea leaves into the boiling water before walking over to the table and sitting down with them. 'Do you have any proof it really works?'

The girl eyed him for a moment, shocked that anyone would dare to doubt the power of prediction of such reliable fortune teller. 'Me dad played cootie catcher once,' she began with a slow voice. 'It told him he was going to have five children and marry a singer.'

'Your mum's not a singer!' Tim spoke up, wrinkling his nose.

'She's a singer all right. She sings all the time, even in her sleep. She's not a famous singer but she sings as much as one,' the girl tried to reason, rolling her eyes. Her ponytails neatly done, and some of her missing teeth beginning to pop out of her gums.

'Not as good though,' Tim replied, grinning, showing the first gap of many to come in his mouth, but he was immediately answered with a slap in the back of his head.

'And in the choir too,' Mrs. Bates remarked. 'She's the best church singer on our Isle.'

'Well…' John shook his head with a smile. 'Jeph only has four children though.'

'Nah...mum's pregnant again. Five. Cootie catcher was right.'

'That's rather impressive then.' John admitted, trying to look taken aback by the homemade game.

'Have you never played, Mr. Bates?' Johnny asked, his cootie catcher nearly finished.

'John's too afraid of good prospects...' the older woman shot her son a look, but was answered back just the same.

'Once,' John replied a moment later.

'What did it tell you?' the girl questioned, curious.

'It told me I was going to be a traveller and marry a yellow-haired girl. I'm not a traveller and my wife had dark hair.'

'Mum has yellow hair though,' Johnny remarked, painting the dots on his fortune teller, and attempting his best to look innocent, and succeeding. John chuckled shyly, trying to take the boy's words as mere child talk, but they had made his heart stop in his chest for a moment, and he found himself feeling terribly flushed, as if the children were able to read his thoughts. His mother, of course, was staring at him and nodding her head ever so slowly. The cake was in the oven, the tea was setting. John was trapped, and yes, Anna had yellow hair. He himself had thought of that many times before.

'And you are a traveller, Mr. Bates.' Ailsa spoke and for that he was glad. The attention was all on her again. 'Dad says writers travel lots. Plus you were in the war so you travelled then too.'

'Maybe you will have another wife...me uncle has had seven already.' Tim lifted his brow, quite proud of his family affairs. 'Some were wives and some were whores living on his benefits.'

Johnny gasped open mouthed. 'That's a bad word!'

'Maybe, but the truth is never good for those who are too weak to take it. Granny's always saying that.'

'Nevertheless that's not a word to be said by such a young gentleman,' John advised, lifting his brow right back at Tim. 'Girls in particular are not too fond of boys who swear, isn't that right, Ailsa?'

'He ain't getting a girlfriend anyway, Mr. Bates. He can swear all he wants,' the girl said and John and Mrs. Bates couldn't help but laugh at her words, while Tim shot her a deadly look. 'Pick a number, Mr. Bates!'

'All right.' John thought for a moment. 'Seven.'

Aisla counted to seven, manoeuvring the paper game with practice. 'Pick a colour.' She showed John the coloured dots; red, blue, green and yellow, and he pointed to the blue one.

'B-l-u-e.'

The girl cleared her throat before reading. ' _Live the future, forget the past, for true love only happens once in a lifetime.'_ The boys looked confused, wrinkling their brows, and Ailsa looked down at the words with a puzzled look on her face.

'Who wrote those?' John asked, dubious.

'I asked Mrs. Bates to come up with good fortunes,' she replied pursing her lips.

'Of course you did.' John looked over at his mother with a disapproving look on his face. 'And she also told you to ask me to play.' The girl nodded.

'What? I told her to ask everyone! And isn't that rather poetic? I think it is.' Mrs. Bates said, pouring tea into mugs. 'It's your fortune anyway, whether you like it or not.'

'And where's Anna?' John asked trying to sound just curious, pretending the fortune he had received was not having an impact on him.

'She's putting laundry away, upstairs.. She'll be down in a minu- Oh! The things you bought were delivered from the boat.'

'The photograph?' He stood up from the table, his voice sounding too hopeful even to himself.

'Not that yet. Just the car parts. Mr. Grant did say it could take a month to get here.'

'He did…' John smiled at the children, almost embarrassed.

'Everything's in the garage. I made Ernest put them there.'

'Ernest is the dockside delivery man now?' John asked, turning to Ailsa for an answer.

'Yes…' the girl replied. 'Dad says he doesn't want any of his children dragging their arses between pubs and pretty lasses. He got Ernest the job a few days ago.'

'I see, well, your father's right. Honest work never killed anyone...better spend one's time being productive than wandering around with nothing to do.' He took a deep breath. 'I'll drink my tea and then I'll see to the car. I can't wait to start working on it!'

 **xxxx**

Anna could hear the children laugh downstairs, and John's voice echoing through the house. It was rather endearing, this side of him, almost unbelievably so. That this man who always presented himself so serious had such a soft side when he let himself go. Even with her, she had noticed that whenever their conversations took their own rhythm he would relax his stern countenance to welcome her in the tenderest of gazes and smiles. That was one of the things she loved about him really, the sort of façade he held. That around most people he was not very sociable and quite silent, but whenever their eyes met he would melt into a grin or a shy purse of lips that gave away who he truly was. And what he truly felt.

And that was the reason why she hadn't address their pending conversation, started on that ferry on their way back from the mainland. He bewitched her in a way that left her unable to ask what was so difficult for him to answer, and like so, she let it pass and told herself he would tell her in his own time.

She walked along the upstairs hallway now, the basket of clean folded clothes in her arms, ready to be returned to their rightful rooms.

It was John's room now, but before going in, she had to take a deep breath. An odd feeling of suspense, she didn't know where it came from, crept into her belly, making her almost unable to move.

His room was tidy, the bed neatly made, his slippers aligned with the edge of his bedframe. The only thing giving away life in the space was the burnt candle, the open window and the curtain flying with the wind, while little drops of rain fell onto his desk.

She rested the basket on the chair, ready to close the window to prevent more water from coming in but before she could do it a gust of wind came through, wild and strong, closing the door of the room with a loud bang.

'Damn,' she cursed, shutting the window, before looking for his pen which had rolled off the desk and under his bed.

She kneeled on the floor and peeked. The pen was in sight and she stretched her arm as far as she could to reach it, but when she did, her fingers touched something different. _A piece of paper_ , she thought, dragging it along the floor. _Maybe it fell. Maybe he doesn't know it's here._

She grabbed the paper then, with no intention whatsoever of reading or unfolding it, and reached once again for the pen. Standing up with the two items in hand she placed both atop his desk but something caught her eye before she could turn away.

' _Anna…'_

Her name. A letter to her?

' _There is nothing worse than living with false hope…._

Her heart raced in her chest and she grabbed the paper again. Curiosity too strong to be held back, a trace of fear too, and expectation. She left the room a few minutes later. His clothes neatly folded on top of his bed, the letter in her pocket.

Time was up...

 **xxxx**

'Mr. Bates?' she walked into the garage later that night, looking for him. The rest of the day had felt strange. Her eyes had avoided his at every opportunity. The fear that she would burst into a million of questions if she was alone with him followed her everywhere. Even her son had noticed her strange behaviour. Too silent, too pensive, even forgetting to ask him why the photograph of Richard had been facing the wall lately.

'Where are you?'

Anna didn't see him at first when he came from behind the car, and truth to be told he had pretended not to hear her calling the first time. He had noticed her change as well, and for that reason he was now frightened. Anna never let things linger for too long, and when she did, she went with life as usual, not a thing ever held her back. Not today though. Today he felt something was truly wrong, and worse than that, he was the one to blame. Why did she think he was different now? He, who was master at hurting those around him.

He sighed defeated, walking towards her with his eyes down, cleaning the grease off his hands with an old cloth, gaining courage to face her as she deserved. And that's when he froze, when his eyes met hers. His heart racing and his breathing heavy.

She was wearing a blue and white dress and her shawl around her shoulders. Her hair was loose, cascading down her back and the breeze blowing against her lithe body filled the air with the perfume of roses.

'Anna,' he spoke, unsure of what to say. This scene too familiar to him. Alarmingly familiar.

'What are you doing?' she asked, bringing her shawl closer, trying to find a way to speak to him. 'Am I interrupting you?'

John shook his head. His mouth was dry. 'I was just...finishing.' No mugs in her hands gave away the serious importance of her visit here.

She nodded with a constrained smile. 'Only because…' with a deep breath she reached for her pocket, taking the letter and handing it to him. 'I found this in your room.'

His eyes grew wide and he felt the colour of his face being washed away. 'How...it was locked in my drawer.' He hesitated, too scared to touch the paper.

'No...it wasn't. It was under you bed.'

'Under my bed?' He looked at her, puzzled, but not for one second doubting her word.

'Yes. The window was open and the... ' she looked at him seriously then. 'It doesn't matter, I found it, it came to me just like that... I wish you would just come out with it.'

'With what?' John wasn't thinking now, or better, he was thinking a million things, all at once, all shouting in his mind. _What was he to tell her? What did she want to hear? I'm sorry? I tried to tell you sooner but I am too weak to even face my own mistakes? I'm sorry you thought I was a better man than I really am?_

'Whatever it is you keep in secret...'

She was teary now, he could see it. Her eyes were pleading but her expression was a serene one. Hours of dwelling on the matter had made her calmer now, as if she knew for sure he was going to tell her everything she needed to hear.

'Anna…' he looked down at the letter in her hand again. 'You read it.'

'I didn't,' she sighed hopelessly and he couldn't believe his ears. 'I couldn't. I want to hear it from you. Or I can read it right here, in your presence.'

'Wait!' John stopped her from looking back at the piece of paper. His hand on hers. Hot and shaky, but yet so strong and terribly tender, as a caress that he had dreamed of so many times. 'You are always one step ahead of me,' he scoffed weakly. 'I gave myself a month to tell you all about it, else I would send you that letter… I couldn't do it and I think...I wouldn't have sent it to you either.' The letter was now in his hand, away from her grasp.

'Whyever not?'

'Because…' he shook his head turning away from her, trying to put his thoughts in place.

'You always push me away for some reason,' she continued. 'And...maybe I'm speaking out of turn but, I think you don't want to. I think...it's you. You believe there's something keeping you away from happiness.'

'You could never speak out of turn.'

'You don't deny it then, that there's something?'

'I don't deny it, and I don't deny your right to ask and that's why I wrote the letter, but...I wouldn't stand if…'

She reached for his arm then, touching him only with her fingertips. Her eyes watery and a small but sincere smile on her lips. 'It would never change my feelings towards you, no matter what you tell me. I told you that once, didn't I?'

He nodded, astonished with the sincerity of her words, with the easiness of her smile even when it looked so impossible to feel nothing but regret and shame. But when he thought that the more she spoke the less courage he would have to face her, her next words would prove him quite wrong. He would find the strength he needed in them.

'Because...I love you, Mr. Bates. I know you probably don't want me to say it but...there's no way back now.'

A single tear slid down her cheek, and gently he dried it with the back of his index finger. A touch so slow and soft that for a moment she wondered if it had really happened. He smiled then, looking deep into her blue eyes, so bright and filled with love, showing him exactly what he always longed for but was too afraid to ask. His whole life was there, within her and he knew in that moment he belonged there, that just like in his dream, in his memory, she had just saved him again.

'I was a drunk,' he began, his words coming out slow, whispered. 'And I was in prison for theft.'

'For theft?' she asked, incredulous.

'For stealing silver from the house Vera worked at as a maid.'

'Did you...you didn't do it...did you?'

'I was convicted.' He looked down, pursing his lips, and she rolled her eyes at him.

'That was not my question, Mr. Bates.'

'No. Vera did but...I took the blame.'

'Why?'

'I was a drunk, Anna. I had no job. I spent my days out drowning myself in beer, the nights we would spend yelling at each other...she found comfort in the arms of other men and I…I tried to find the same in the arms of other women. I ruined her life, and when the time came, I thought I should pay for it.'

'It seems to me that your life was equally ruined,' she told him.

'It doesn't matter.'

'It matters to me.'

'I made mistake after mistake, Anna. I am no longer the man I used to be.'

'Exactly. You are not...I wouldn't want you to be. You are the man I know, and the man I know is the result of all his mistakes. I don't want young John Bates back, I want this John.' she squeezed his arm softly to make her point and he couldn't help but smile at her words.

'All that you tell me, it's not you speaking. All that you think of yourself is because she told you to think so. I know it, I've been there. I have been made to believe I was nothing but a…' Anna swallowed hard. 'but mistakes are just that. It's in our hands to put them in the past and move on, give ourselves a second chance at life. Or you can grow them until they become to much to bear.'

'You could do so much better, Anna,' he pleaded, looking at her with teary eyes. 'Think of a better man for yourself.'

'I can't…' she smiled at him decided, shaking her head as she did so. 'Because there isn't one.'

She dropped her hand to his and he took it without thinking twice. Their fingers played together a gentle game of caresses, longing touches and flushed skins. Their eyes met again, locking themselves in one another as if the world around them was a mere whisper of their reality. Slowly they shortened the distance between their bodies, their faces becoming closer and closer, a so longed for kiss about to happen. Both had dreamed of this so many times before. Every time different. Every time better than the last. But now, even the possibility of it was itself better than a dream, and that was all they were going to have that night.

The storm was brewing outside and just like that the sound of thunder ripped from the sky, piercing loudly through sea and land and into their ears. They both jumped at the sound, the spell was broken, and they drifted apart but their hands continued joined together.

'From all that you said tonight…' he began, his fingers caressing her knuckles. 'The fact that you didn't read the letter was what surprised me the most.'

'I knew it would be that,' she chuckled. 'And what surprised me the most, from all that you said, was that you think even less of yourself than I thought you did.'

'Thank you…' he whispered, crumpling the letter in his other hand, more than ready to throw it away.

'Whatever for?' Anna asked and John smiled tenderly, and she understood.

 **xxxx**

Anna found extremely hard to fall asleep that night. Memories of what had happened in the garage replaying in her mind. It felt almost surreal now, everything they've shared, and she couldn't help but remember it with a flush on her cheeks.

Smiling, she brought her hand to her lips, thinking about how close they had been. So dangerously close. He had smelled of sweat and motor oil and the air had been filled with rusty scents and rain, and she wouldn't have changed that moment for the world. His hot breathing against her skin, before the skies decided to drive them apart, had been almost too much to handle, and she had found herself imagining how it would feel if they had kissed for real. He was everything she wanted, and now, after knowing the truth, her feelings had just grown for him, so much she was sure they would burst in her chest.

In his room, he sat on bed, the candle burning sure and strong, the journal in his hands.

He didn't know what to write tonight, too many emotions rushing through his mind, his hands too slow to write them all down. She had been so sure when she held his hand, her eyes showing him nothing but love and kindness, no trace of disappointment or anger, giving him all the strength he needed to respond to her touches without a second thought. To begin to feel free to show her how much he cared for her.

If he had had his way, he would have swept her in his arms and kissed her even as the thunder echoed through the place. He would have claimed her lips and hugged her tightly to his chest, and he would have told her he loved her just as much. He would have tasted her as he always dreamed of, and touched her in the most tender of ways.

But that was all to happen, and deep inside his heart he knew it. Deep inside his heart he knew she was his now, somehow, in some odd manner, even though he still thought she was too good to be true, Anna would help him see himself through her own eyes.

With those thoughts in the back of his mind, he opened his journal and read the first ever poem he had written to her, not long after he arrived. The first of many he was sure. All to her, and all meant to be shared. He was now sure he would rather die than let her go.

' _I know now why I returned here…_

 _To learn that love is so much more than the appeal of the flesh,_

 _But also partnership, confidence_

 _A feeling of perpetual togetherness and completion_

 _Even when we two are apart. Even before we've met._

 _That is so much more than words and poetry on a paper_

 _That has to be felt in the heart and soul_

 _Before we can even grasp one another, hear and taste_

 _That every time I know you are real,_

 _I feel my body come back to life again._

 _That every time I dream of you at night_

 _Is because daytime wasn't enough to satisfy my every need._

 _But above all is to learn that,_

 _With every morning comes another day._

 _And with every day my love grows,_

 _So much and deep within myself,_

 _That when my time arrives I will love you plenty with my eternal soul.'_

* * *

 _ **Next Chapter:** Ghost __hunting and life lessons._

 ** _Thank you for reading :)_**

 _ps: thank you all for your reviews! I always love them, and don't feel sorry for the constructive ones. They help me to get better and learn from my mistakes :D xXx_


	9. Fate

_**A/N:** Good evening everyone! Hope you all had a good week :) Thank you all so much for your reviews, follows and faves! _

_Hope you enjoy this new, and long chapter. Wish you all a great weekend :D_

 _ **Disclaimer:** Same as chapter 1-8._

* * *

 **\- Fate -**

The following morning welcomed them with a cloudless sky, the sun shinning upon the silver water, and the wind blowing from the east, sweeping away any trace of last night's rain.

The new day also brought them together. The clock barely hitting eight a.m. when the two met on the stairs, with shy glances and even shyer smiles, and questions about each other's sleep. Silence had prevailed then, as they walked to the kitchen side by side. Only a giggle escaped her when they both stopped at the door, and he motioned for her to go in first, as the gentleman he was. ' _Ladies first,'_ he had said, a grin on his lips and a playful look on his face.

That had settled her heart on her chest, and she was glad he had been the one making sure things were still the same. After last night, Anna had feared that he would go back to his shell, away from the world and from her, limiting his time to deep thoughts and miserable sighs of longing for a life he dreamed of but daren't to venture on. Thankfully, that wouldn't be the case. Thankfully, this time he had her hand to hold on to before stepping into his future, and surely, she would never let him go. This time he would trust.

They sat together now, at the kitchen table. John drinking his coffee and Anna waiting for the tea to brew. Both talking about the weather, about the strong wind blowing outside, about the rain of last night…

'It's as if I was living in such a fog of misery and with last night's rain all my past secrets were washed away... and now finally the sun can shine once again.'

'Now, that's rather poetic, Mr Bates.' she smiled at him. 'You should write that down.'

'I have far more poetic things to write down,' he told her, remembering the poem he had written for her. 'This is just a mere thought.'

'You should give yourself more credit.'

'I give all my credit to you…' he took her hand in his, caressing her knuckles with his fingertips, in the same loving way he had done the night before. 'I still don't understand what you saw, see in me...how can you...love such a difficult man.' His voice was tentative and slow, almost as if words could spoil the spell that still lingered around them.

'But it's the easiest thing…so easy I didn't even know it was happening.' She spoke decisively, as she always did when expressing her feelings.

That made him chuckle, and the grip on her hand became stronger, as if he tried to find in the warmth of her skin all the reassurance he needed. He would always find more than that in her though, for her eyes would never fail to show him how true her words were.

'Anna-' he began, ready to tell her the exact same thing; that he had loved her from a distance, in the midst of bombs and cries of despair, when he thought nothing else would come out of it, or at least nothing good, and when his own pain filled his body with the certainty of a harsh and slow death...but his declarations would be interrupted.

'Good morning.' Mrs Bates walked into the kitchen, and John and Anna dropped their hands as soon as their heard the sound of her voice. 'I see the morning brought us sunshine and hope...as my mother-in-law used to say, may she be resting in peace,' she said walking towards the counter, ready to start cooking breakfast. She knew exactly what she had interrupted. The older woman had heard their voices in the kitchen, and her steps had been slow after realising what was happening. But breakfast time was as scared as Sunday church in this house, at least for her, and they would have the rest of their lives to talk about the matters of the heart. Now it was time to eat.

'Let's fill 'em bellies with good food and get this glorious day starting. No sack stands when empty.'

'Neither good thoughts and words come out of starving mouths,' John added.

'Exactly! And I reckon there's some thinking and talking to do today…' she looked over her shoulder at her son.

'Is there?' he asked, not quite grasping what she meant.

'Well you tell me, son...isn't there?'

 **xxxx**

It was later in the afternoon, as they all sat in the front room together, overlooking the sea. The radio was tuned into news from the war. Ailsa and Tim had visited again, and they played with Johnny on the carpet now. Macbeth slept on the floor, snoring loudly, not minding the children who would often try to tease him into their games, and Anna and Mrs Bates worked on yarn, ready to start knitting some warm items for the winter. John, sat in his late father's chair, right next to the now extinguished fireplace. He listened attentively to the news, while admiring the soft smile that graced Anna's features as she wrapped the yarn into a ball.

'This bloody war better be over soon…too many years of death and hunger. The mainland is devastated, I don't know how they will be able to put it together again,' Mrs Bates said bitterly. 'But we won't bow our heads, as Mr Churchill says, together we will move forward, as we always did. We won't let those dogs ruin our country.'

'I hope you are right,' Anna remarked, sighing heavily. 'People are tired from all the suffering.'

'I've heard they are closing down Tobermory Bay's naval base,' John began. 'That must be good news. They wouldn't close it if the war was to last. I reckon its days are numbered by now.'

'Oh I hope you are right!' his mother said. 'God knows I've been praying for that every single night. And all the candles I've burnt…'

'As much as the enemy is praying for victory,' John stated, looking down. 'God has no say in these matters.'

'But we are the good ones, aren't we? God only allows the victory of the good, and my prayers got you home, John Bates, no matter what you say.' Mrs. Bates replied, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

'Jeph told me,' John continued, trying not to push his luck too much. In the matters of religion, his very Catholic mother would always win, if only out of stubbornness. 'Ernest had to go to the bay to get some packages from the boats and the navies were talking about it. You won't have as much work to do now...no need to burn so many candles either.'

Mrs. Bates shot him a look. 'I don't really have much work anymore...they never turn up here really, and when they do they have those new...machines or whatever those are. I reckon lighthouses have their days numbered as well...sadly. And as for candles, I will continue to pray for your soul...God knows you need it.'

Anna giggled at Mrs. Bates response and John could only sigh, rolling his eyes.

'Anyway…' he looked over at the children playing, ready to change the subject of their conversation. 'What kind of game is that?'

Macbeth, the dog, was being conquered by small tin soldiers, and even a wooden airplane. The toys were placed all over his napping body, some being knocked over by the animal's heavy breathing, as he slept away without a care in the world.

'We're killing all the enemy troops!' Johnny exclaimed. 'The Macbeth Isle was occupied and now we are taking it back.'

'Maybe you should let him sleep instead?' Anna suggested. 'There's the whole floor for you to take back from your enemy.'

'But mummy, Macbeth wants to play with us.'

'I am sure he doesn't have much choice...let him be now. Oh!'

The dog rose with a bored look on his face, bringing all the tin soldiers down.

'Earthquake!' Ailsa shouted, trying to save some of the toys, as the dog walked towards John and laid down at his feet.

'Let's hope that's an omen that the war is really coming to an end.' Mrs. Bates remarked chuckling.

'I've been thinking…' John spoke, patting the dog's head. 'After the car's done I might clean the whole garage. That place is filled with old things that have no use. We'd really have a nice workshop again if it was emptied out.'

'Goodness me! You mean it. And when's the car ready?' his mother asked.

'It's almost ready, really...I just have to wait for Anna to accept the fact that soon she will be driving it around.'

'That's the difficult part,' Anna smiled shyly.

'Oh no, you will do grand. You are a smart girl.' Mrs. Bates encouraged.

'She is. She will be driving by herself before she knows it!' he smiled at Anna, their eyes meeting as he spoke.

'And as her teacher you won't be leaving her side until she does...and probably you still won't after,' the older woman laughed at her own words.

'It's all right, Mrs. Bates. I like the company.' Anna grinned happily, hoping that would be the case.

'I am sure you do, my dear. I am sure.'

'Mr. Bates?' Ailsa spoke. 'When will you take us to the haunted lighthouse? Johnny said you would. Soon.'

'That's a good question.' Anna lifted her brow and rested the yarn on her legs, waiting for his answer.

'Well...whenever you want really.'

'Tonight then! We're all here,' Ailsa replied excitedly. 'Oh please, Mr. Bates, please!'

John looked over at Anna and he could see the same amount of excitement in her eyes. He smiled then, pretending to think hard on the matter, furrowing his brow at the children, while they kneeled before him, begging.

'All right then! I will take you there tonight.'

'And look! The clouds are gathering again,' Mrs. Bates called their attention. 'Maybe there will be thunder and rain which makes it all the more interesting.'

'Won't you come with us, Mrs. Bates?' Anna asked.

'Oh no, my dear. I only go there to work...too many stairs,' she looked over at John. 'You be careful, don't go running up and down those stairs like mad lest you fall and ruin your leg for good.'

'Mother...I know.'

'Someone has to tell their parents they are staying until later though,' she advised.

'I can do that!' Anna and John spoke in unison, chuckling after doing so.

'I have a letter to post,' Anna told them.

'I have one too. I can post yours if you want,' John offered.

'No, I will post yours. I'll take the bike, it will be much faster.'

'Oh yes, you go Anna, I need flour, sugar and butter as well. All these rationings will drive us mad,' Mrs. Bates said.

'Anything else, Mrs. Bates?' John asked his mother playfully.

'Respect...if they sell that these days.' She shot him a look .

 **xxxx**

They could hear a dry thunderstorm in the distance, far away from there. The sky above them was still clear, but they could already spot the first traces of clouds blocking the stars that now began to show.

Night was coming fast, the sun had set sometime ago, but a few flickers of light could be seen on the horizon, reddish and orange, as a dying ember in the morning after bonfire night. It was cold, September was approaching. Summer in this land never lasted very long.

'You've been in France...was it as sunny as they say it is?' Anna asked him as they sat outside together, waiting for the children.

'Europe is hardly sunny these days,' he sighed heavily as his mind wandered to a not so distant past. 'It's dusty and putrid and relentless...too noisy as well. There they are!'

The children came running, eager to start their ghost hunt.

'Let's get some torches from the garage first, there's not much light in the old lighthouse.' John said, walking ahead of them.

'I shouldn't have eaten so much!' Tim said patting his belly. 'What if I see a ghost and throw up?'

John looked over at the children, before Anna replied. 'Tim throws up when he's nervous.'

'He threw up on Miss Smith's desk once because she asked him if he was lying about his homework,' Ailsa remarked. 'He said he had lost it on his way to school. I reckon if it was the truth he wouldn't have been so nervous.' The girl shot Tim a obvious look.

Johnny grimaced at the memory of that day. 'It smelled of rotten eggs.'

'Goodness, let's change the subject.' Anna suggested, wrinkling her nose. 'So, the torches and then what, Mr. Bates?'

'The torches and courage, that's it.' John chuckled to himself as he handed a torch to Anna. His cane was left at home, he would need both of his hands if something happened. That stick would only get in the way. 'Let's go. The Piper's waiting. I reckon he hasn't had such a crowd of visitors since I was a boy myself.'

'Just don't fall,' Anna advised giggling softly as they began to walk toward the lighthouse. 'None of us is strong enough to carry you home.'

'You are strong enough to help me stand up again,' he told her smiling, his memory taking him back to that one morning she had helped him when he fell in his room.

Soon they were at the door of the old building, standing tall and proud in the light of the moon. John held the heavy door latch, with the torch firmly in his other hand, and he glanced over at Anna. He could see she was as excited as the children were. That made him smile, and without any further ado, he opened the door to complete darkness.

'Who goes in first?' he asked, as he looked inside. The boy he once was telling him how dark and scary the place was at night.

'Well, you do, of course!' Anna replied, surprised.

'Yes…' he took a deep breath, '...of course.'

'You're scared,' Ailsa said whispering.

John scoffed, trying his best not to give away the truth behind the girl's words. 'I am certainly not. I was just checking...maybe you would want to go ahead, miss?' he offered, challenging the girl with a smile on his face.

'No way,' she shook her head. 'I'm bloody scared!'

He laughed at the girl's words and slowly, they all entered the lighthouse. John at the head of the line, the children in the middle and Anna last.

'It's really dark, isn't it?' Anna spoke softly, the torch in her hands a bit shaky.

'They never put electricity here...I wonder why.' John said.

'To make it more scary,' Johnny added, walking behind him.

'Possibly.' he replied.

'Will we go up to the top?' Tim asked as they began to climb the stairs.

'Yes, you have to call the Piper from the top. You do it properly, or don't do it at all,' Ailsa answered. 'Dad said he was one of the boys who called the Piper that one time...he told me all about it when I told him Mr Bates was taking us here the other day.'

'Oh yes he was...he was also the one who ran past me making me fall down the stairs.'

'Mr Kenneth probably didn't see you. He's got a lazy eye,' Tim said.

'But his good eye sees better than the two you've got,' Ailsa replied, pinching the boy's back.

'Shhh,' did you hear that?' Anna whispered, and everyone turned silent.

'What?' John said a moment after.

'I've heard something…' she said, trying to illuminate around them.

'Mummy…' Johnny trembled in fear.

'It's all right, lad.' John wrapped his arm around the boy's shoulder. 'Don't be scared it was probably just the wind.'

'Is it too long until we reach the top?' the little girl asked, trying to peek through the stairs.

'Two more stories…' John said, looking back at the children. Anna's face was lit by the torch and he could see her eyes trying to roam through the darkness, before she saw him looking at her. She smiled at him, shaking her head at the situation, and he managed a wink before walking on. As they climbed, there was a faint, wavering light coming from the top, now and then, probably due to the clouds passing by in the sky.

There was only one set of stairs to go now, and John stopped in his tracks.

'This is it,' he announced, turning around again to look at them. He could feel Johnny's hands holding tight at his trousers, as the boy tried his best to keep contact. Tim was next, his eyes wide and a hand over his belly, and then Ailsa, looking too sure of herself, as if fear had abandoned her body.

And with that same sentiment, she was the one calling the Piper, without a second thought. 'Old Piper, Old Piper rotting in the sea. Old Piper, Old Piper show yourself to me.'

They all waited after her words. Tim even dared a mad look at his friend, asking her with a panicked expression on his face where did she even find the courage to pronounce such riddle.

'I think the Piper must be on summer break as well,' the girl said, wrinkling her nose.

'Wait!' John gestured for silence. 'Did you hear that?'

They all tried to listen. Movement. Maybe it was the light from the outside and their shadows but the there was something else. A knock. Then another. Metallic and dry, almost as a snap.

'That's what I heard,' Anna whispered, trying her best not to sound too frightened.

And then again. As the sound moved they felt a weird sensation of being watched over. The hairs on their bodies began to rise. Johnny held John's trousers tighter, and Tim's belly gave his nervousness away. Ailsa leaned against Anna, and the two adults look at each other, holding their torches in the air.

'Does it come from the top?' John asked Anna, trying to understand the origin of the sound, but that's when he saw it. The look on her face. Her eyes wide in fear, and trying to speak. She shook her head, her body beginning to tremble as leaves in the wind.

'It comes from-' she had no time to finish her sentence when her torch turn off unexpectedly. The children screamed, Anna didn't do any better, and all John could do was to grab the younger boy in his arms, and climb up the stairs, telling the others in a rush to follow him.

'Oh my God, it was behind me, I felt it!' Anna breathed erratically as they reached the top landing. Her hands on her chest trying to slow down her heart.

'It was just sensation,' John told her, trying not to give away how scared he really was. 'The more you think about it, the more you feel it.'

She shot him a look before speaking. 'What about my torch?'

'The battery died, that's all.'

'What a great coincidence,' she rolled her eyes.

'Life's made of those.' John couldn't help but chuckle, the boy still in his arms, covering his face against his shoulder. 'It's all right, lad…' he soothed.

'I saw him,' Johnny said. 'I saw the Piper.' His eyes were shut and his arms were tight around John's neck. 'He had a pipe and a hat, and he was smiling with no teeth.'

'You're lying.' Tim stated, his two hands wrapped against his middle.

'I am not lying!' Johnny faced the crowd then. 'I saw him. He had his pipe in his hands and he was ready to start playing,' the boy frowned.

'When does he play then?' Ailsa defied aloud, barely aware of the meaning of her words.

Anna and John faced each other, too scared even to pay attention at the sounds around them. But it wasn't like they couldn't help it really. Maybe it was real, maybe it was in their heads, but the sound of a pipe began to whistle against their ears, mixed with wind and the salty breeze from the sea. It was so faint and trepid they took some time to understand what it was, and when their eyes met again, and the look on their faces told them it was nothing but a ghost, they decided to go down.

'Let's go, let's go.' John rushed them down the stairs, coming last with Johnny still in his arms. His leg telling him he was doing way too much for his own good, but at the moment he didn't care.

'Oh God, oh my God.' Anna ran down, ahead, trying her best not to look around or to take any time. The hairs on the back of her neck were still standing and the weird feeling of being watched persisted with every step. There was a last loud knock before they reached the ground floor and she couldn't help but let out a short sharp scream, as nervous as she was.

'Safe and sound!' John sighed in relief as he placed the boy on the ground and closed the door behind them. 'Now...that was quite an adventure.'

'One we won't repeat!' Anna breathed in. 'How are you doing? Are you all right, Tim?'

'Yes...I suppose,' the boy answered with a sick look on his face.

'All right, I ought to take you two home now,' John said, wiping some sweat off his forehead.

'Wait for me. I'll go with you,' Anna told him, at last. Her heart trying to regain its normal rhythm.

'I don't want to go, mummy. It's dark.' Johnny wrapped his arms around her waist.

'What about you stay with Mrs. Bates? I bet she's sitting listening to the radio with Macbeth...wouldn't that be nice?'

'Yes, mummy. I'll stay with Mrs Bates.'

'I'll take him inside,' Anna said looking at John. 'I'll be right back.'

John nodded with a smile, and Tim sat down on the ground, sighing as he did so.

'I'm glad you didn't throw up,' Ailsa told him.

'I didn't even have the time for that!'

Before Anna could go in, Mrs Bates appeared at the door, resting her hands on her hips as she stared at their glazed faces.

'Goodness me! Did the Piper whisper in your ears? Looks like it.' She chuckled loudly, shaking her head at the sight.

'Almost!' Ailsa replied. 'Johnny saw him in the middle of all that darkness. He's so scared he doesn't even want to come with us.'

'Darkness?' the old woman questioned, confused. 'John, why didn't you turn on the lights?'

All eyes were on John after his mother's words, and he looked at everyone with a guilty expression on his face. 'I forgot,' he said, unsure if they would believe this second lie of his.

'You damned beggar!' his mother exclaimed.

'You said there was no electricity.' Anna eyed him almost in shock, as she tried to suppress a laugh.

'There isn't any sense in his head either, come to that!' Mrs. Bates rolled her eyes. 'Come on, Johnny, let's listen to some catchy tune on the radio to cheer you up...poor children.'

Johnny went inside with Mrs. Bates, after saying goodbye to his friends. A tune and good company would indeed do him good.

 **xxxx**

'Lying shamelessly as you did...you're lucky I didn't give you a smack.' Anna giggled as they walked back home.

'You wouldn't. And then, children love a good scare.'

'I am not a child though!' She rolled her eyes trying to look upset, but that wasn't something she succeeded at when John was around.

'Was that the fright of your life?' he asked her in a playful mood. The flickering night sky above their heads turning heavy as the beginning of another storm started brewing on the horizon.

'Unfortunately, no. It wasn't.' She giggled to herself, not minding the meaning of her words, but they made him go silent.

'It was silly of me to say it,' he spoke a moment later, looking down at the path before their feet.

'Oh no.' She shook her head, understanding what he meant. 'It's all right. It was a fright that I looked forward to having...that's not something you can say every day.'

He nodded in agreement. His cane now on his hand as he walked slowly and heavily.

'Oh! How silly of me. You carried Johnny up and down those stairs. I didn't even think about your leg.'

'It's fine. My leg's doing much better lately. I will rest it up tomorrow,' he replied, glad that she had forgotten about that small detail. He hated when people coddled him because of his wound. And more than that, he had enjoyed carrying the boy. Enjoyed feeling his small arms wrapped around his neck in need of protection. He almost felt as if he indeed had a family of his own. It had been a good feeling.

'If you say so…' Anna looked at his leg, hoping resting would be enough. 'Johnny loves to be carried around but I'm afraid I can't do it anymore. He's too heavy for me. I spoiled him too much,' she grinned.

'And why wouldn't you do it? Only children are always spoiled.'

'And you know that from experience…'

'I do,' he smiled and they continued to walk.

'Do you think the war is really coming to an end?' she asked him a moment later, breaking the comfortable silence between them.

'Hard to say really, but I am hopeful. I wrote to a friend of mine, the letter you posted. He's still there fighting. Maybe when he answers it will be with good news.'

'I wrote to my brother,' she sighed, pursing her lips. 'He won't answer though but…we always talked about everything and I still write to him, pretend things are still the same... I miss him.'

'I hope he answers.' John looked over at her, sorry that she was so alone in the world. That at one time her son was all that she had. Well, he would make sure that wouldn't be the case anymore.

'Me too, but I am not counting on that. It's all right, really. If you don't expect it you won't be sad about it.'

'But you are sad.'

'Not because he doesn't write, but because of what we used to be.'

'I'm sorry.'

'What is it like? To be at war?' she asked, her words tentative.

'It's difficult to explain really...it's like...a million things.' He smiled down at his feet. 'I really never thought about it, or spoke about it to anyone.'

'You could speak to me.' She smiled over at him, encouragingly. Their walk home had been diverted now, and their feet took them to their one spot. They hadn't notice until they were there, but as soon as they realised it, they sat down side by side on the still damp grass from the previous rainy days, enjoying the comfort of each other's company, the ocean black and raging, and the lighting flashing now and then in the distance.

'See the sky?' He pointed up. 'There's no sky at war. No stars, no nature. It is there, yes, around you, but you don't see it. You turn into nothing but a machine. Your brain is stored in a jar and you hope you survive to it to get it back one day. And some people never do. You become so tired that you can't rest. You get used to it. Your body won't settle. There's a nervous exhaustion that comes from within and you can't really word the feeling of it.' He looked at her then. 'Your photograph was the only thing my eyes rested upon. I would look at you and I could feel my soul at ease. I could smell your perfume of roses and my home.'

'How...how did you know I smelled like roses?' she asked him, confused. A smile creeping onto her features.

'I just did.' He looked deep into her eyes then, turning toward her, the sky lighting with a the distant thunder. He was teary, entranced by memories and reality, reaching for her cheek, and caressing it with the back of his hand. 'You talked to me in my dreams...you told me about freedom and longing. Longing for something unknown as if I could already feel it, as I am feeling now.' He traced her jaw with his fingers, before venturing into her loose hair.

The feeling sent shivers down her spine as she tried to remain awake in this dream. An intimate touch, something she always imagined between them, now was real. Just like the first time they sat together on this spot, the darkness wasn't dark enough for the light coming from his eyes.

Her hair was silky, soft against his fingertips and he lingered there in gentle caresses, doing what he had always wished to do. 'Anna,' he spoke at last. His voice low and soft against the strong breeze, and she felt him leaning into her. His warmth surrounding her even before they were close together. 'I loved you when I first laid my eyes upon your picture. I loved you then, so much,' he continued as she began to feel his breath against her skin.

'My mother used to tell me, when I was no more than a young child,' he spoke and she could feel him smiling in his speech, recognising every single one of his words. An electric sensation in the air, probably due to the coming storm, working as a magnet in their bodies and drawing them closer and closer together. They couldn't help it now. '...that love is what you see...I love you, Anna Smith.'

She closed her eyes then, and he pressed his lips against hers. Soft and gentle, smiling. His hand left the waves of her hair to her cheek, as his thumb caressed her skin while he kissed her.

Anna would forever remember this moment. The ocean crashing against the shore, a storm approaching, the air smelling damp, their clothes cold from the still wet grass but such an intense heat growing in her body, and words of love blowing with the wind. His lips sure and daring against her. So tender and passionate, as his words had been. She could barely control a sob as they parted, hardly believing in the moment before her. Promises of love and a lifetime together had been made in another time, with another man, but they had never been so true and deeply felt as these had been, and she could feel it in her heart, that no matter what came, this man, now, smiling lovingly at her, would be the last in her life.

She smiled, and a tear slid down her cheek, but before he could clean it off as he had done the night before, she wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly against her small frame.

'I love you, Mr. Bates,' she whispered against his skin. 'So much.'

'You might start calling me John,' he said, kissing just below her earlobe. The smell of her hair was indeed intoxicating. Everything he had imagined. 'That's how you called me when I dreamed of you.'

'Did I really?' she faced him, smiling shyly at him. Her eyes still teary.

'Oh you did…'

'As you wish... John.'

He laughed, and she pulled him to her into another kiss, making both of them fall down on the grass. This time more urgent and deep, fierce even, making them feel completely oblivious about their surroundings.

'We might catch a cold if we stay here, my clothes are all damp now.' John chuckled, brushing away a lock of hair from her cheek as he hovered over her.

'Oh yes, that wouldn't be good.' She smiled at him and they both rose at once.

They walked back home, holding hands as young lovers, in understanding silence. When the cottage came in sight, John wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and she let herself lean onto his frame.

'What are you thinking about?' he asked, kissing her temple as he noticed a trace of worried thought on her brow.

'Johnny…' she sighed. 'It's the second time he's turned Richard's photograph to the wall. I don't know why he does it. I think he feels Richard has abandoned him, and I can't seem to make him understand that's not the case. I don't know. I shouldn't bother you with that.'

'But you should. I want you to share all your troubles with me,' he smiled. 'Maybe...maybe I could speak to him? If you would let me.'

'Of course. He seems rather enamoured with you as well,' she giggled. 'Maybe you can make him understand.'

'I will, I promise.'

Anna faced him then, running a hand through his hair, a mischievous look on her face. 'I look forward to sharing more of these moments with you, Mr Bates.'

John chuckled. 'We will have many opportunities to be alone, every day. And our spot will be always there, waiting.'

'Yes.' His words took her back to a time before him, when she arrived to this Isle with her son and hopes of her new life. Since early on, she would sit there, every day before dinner, and she would glance towards the ocean, waiting for something she knew not. For a feeling she had never felt before. She felt empty somehow, lacking of something more, something she had never had with Richard. And now she knew exactly what it was. In fact, she had known when she met John. He had been the reason of her waiting, of her coming here when she could have gone anywhere else. It was more than coincidence...it was fate. Fate disguised as luck and coincidences with the sole purpose of drawing them together, as they should be.

'Let's go inside. Mrs. Bates must be wondering why we are taking so long.'

'She might, but I'm sure she's not one bit worried about it.'

 **xxxx**

'Do you mind if I replace your mother tonight?' John asked the boy as he sat on his bed.

'No.' Johnny shook his head with a smile, running his hands through his little bear's fur. 'Are you going to tell me a story, Mr. Bates? Mummy always tells me one.'

'Actually…' John looked over at the boy's nightstand, spotting the photograph facing the wall, and taking it in his hands. 'I am here to teach you a life lesson, my boy.' He smiled down at the child playfully, holding the frame in his hands.

Johnny looked confused at his words.

'Why is your father facing the wall?'

'I don't want him,' the boy pouted, before looking up at John. 'I wish you would be my father instead. You even protected me from the ghost tonight and all. And you taught me how to spin my spinner….'

'Let me tell you something, Johnny, and you listen carefully...this man went to war to face death for his King and Country. He ventured onto the battlefield bravely, leaving the woman he loved behind, hoping against hope he would come back for her, for you. Maybe he never met you but I am sure if he had he would want you, so much... He would be very proud of you for the smart and kind hearted little boy you are, and for that you should respect him. Without him, you wouldn't be here.'

'Why did you come back and why he didn't then?'

'Maybe it was fate. Do you know what fate is?' Johnny nodded, a bit unsure. 'Maybe it was luck, or both. But you see, your father died for a better world, a world you will grow up in. And yes, he's not here anymore, but you are part of what he was. And maybe I came back exactly because he didn't. Maybe I am here to be what he wasn't allowed to.'

'Mummy says he would be very good if he was still alive, and that he would teach me all the things.'

'I am sure he would. Your mummy wouldn't have it any other way. Don't you trust her?'

The boy nodded. 'Trust her then. She loves you more than anyone else. And Richard would too, more than you can imagine.'

John handed the frame to Johnny, before mussing the boy's hair gently. 'Sleep now. I promised your mother you would be sleeping when I left, it's quite late.'

'Mr. Bates?' Johnny called, as John rose from the bed ready to leave the room.

'Yes?'

'Maybe I am just lucky then. Maybe...I was meant to have a second chance, just like mummy said when I asked her why you came back. Maybe you are our second chance.'

'Our?' John asked, quite impressed by the little boy's words.

'Mummy and me. After all, she lost her Richard as well.'

'I reckon we are all getting second chances.' John smiled emotionally, taking in the boy's innocent and truthful words.

'Oh, and Mr. Bates?'

'Yes?'

'I didn't really see a ghost.' Johnny wrinkled his nose. 'I was just lying.'

John laugh softly. 'Well, maybe when you get a second chance to go up there at night, you will see him.'

'That's a second chance I don't really want to have.'

That made John laugh again, before leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

Inside, Johnny sat up in bed, looking at his father's photograph. He smiled at this unknown man who had made him possible to happen, and even if he would never really have strong feelings toward him, he would certainly try to respect his memory from now on.

With that, he placed the picture on his nightstand facing the bed and him as he slept. Who knew? Maybe his mother was right all along. Maybe his father would be watching over him after all. Maybe the war had taken one and brought him another. One in Heaven and one on Earth, and nothing but _fate._

* * *

 _ **Next Chapter:** September finally arrives, bringing peace and hope and driving lessons. _

**_Thank you for reading :)_**

 _ps: a BIG thank you, **terriejane** , my fierce beta! Because of wonderful reasons xXx_


	10. September

_**A/N:** Good evening everyone! I want to apologize about last week. I really couldn't get the chapter done in time. My laptop broke and I had to buy a new one, and although I could have finished the chapter before, I didn't want to rush it. I hope you didn't think I was dead or something ;P So, here I am with another update and a new laptop that I love! _

_Hope you enjoy this chapter. Wish you all a grand weekend :)_

 _ **Disclaimer:** Same as chapter 1-9._

* * *

 **\- September -**

September arrived, along with the official news of the end of the war. News that had caught those who lived isolated from the world by surprise. On this Isle of theirs, little was known about such affairs, as if these people lived almost in a glass dome, protected, ignorant. Few were those, like Mrs Bates, who owned a radio; newspapers were rare and only for those who lived at the Bay. Letters from those at war had to be enough, and if the news was too great everyone would end up knowing about it.

That's what happened on the second day of September of nineteen forty five, when Ernest came down the muddy roads shouting as loudly as he could, running as fast as his legs allowed him. ' _The war is over! Japan has surrendered! The war is officially over!'_

'Did you hear that?!' Mrs Bates spoke, walking toward the kitchen window and opening it. The boy was just passing by. Anna was at the table already drinking her tea, her eyes now fixed on the window as well. 'Ernest! What in God's name are you saying? If you are mocking our good senses I'll tell your father to give you a good spank!' Mrs Bates hollered out.

'It ain't no mockin', Mrs Bates. The war is over, for good. No more pretending. It's official!' Ailsa's older brother answered with an enthusiastic smile on his face. Sweat sliding down his brow, and his freckled face flushed. 'The navies are all celebrating at Tobermory's, most of them are already drunk and it's not even nine o'clock,' and with that he ran away, the words of good news echoing through the land.

'I can't believe it.' Anna brought one hand to her mouth, tears threatening to fall. 'I can't believe this nightmare is over for good.'

'What's this?' John came in the kitchen, his green jumper favouring his eyes as he looked at the women's faces, unaware of what was happening.

'Oh, Mr Bates!' Anna rose from her chair and ran to him. Her hands searching for his as soon as she reached him. 'The war is over!'

'What?' He couldn't believe his ears.

'It's over John!' Mrs Bates confirmed it. 'For good. Ernest just shouted it after hearing the news at Tobermory's.'

'Oh my…' his voice broke when he tried to speak. A wave of emotions and memories running through him. Battles, noise, stench, death, friends lost forever. He looked down at Anna, who was smiling up at him, her tears now flowing freely down her cheeks, as her own memories came to life in her mind, and without a second thought, he lifted her in his arms.

John held Anna close to him, as he felt her nuzzling her face in the crook of his neck, taking in his scent and this moment, and the warmth that always emanated from his body. And he did just the same, filling his lungs with the perfume of her hair, and getting used to her lightweight. No one had ever fit his arms so perfectly as Anna Smith, neither his thoughts and spirit.

'After all the misery and death...it's time to hope again.' Mrs Bates' words travelled through their ears, as he rested Anna on the floor once again. Their eyes met in a short moment, filled with happiness. A moment that would always linger and be remembered even when they would be apart. It was over, their time of pain and heartbreak. A time of broken dreams and cries of despair in the dark corners of the night. They had been both shaken to their core, as trees in the midst of winter storms, but from that they would stand tall and proud once again, for their roots still remained, and after Winter comes Spring again.

 **xxxx**

'Are you eager to start working again?' he asked her as they walked to the school. The trees were turning orange around them. Golden even. The air held the smell of wet dirt and a new season yet to come, and the freezing salty breeze from the sea. They walked together but apart, the shyness of the new relationship they were beginning to build still present.

'I am rather...I do love to teach and the children here are wonderful.' Her cheeks were flushed and she had a mysterious smile on her lips. Her eyes looked at the way before them, knowing too well he stared at her with every word she spoke. 'They were all a great help when I first arrived. I was received with such love, and every single one of them is ever so bright. Maybe it's a peculiarity of this place...everyone's clever and well spoken.' She looked at him then, shooting him a teasing look.

'Well...you know us. Quite the philosophers.' he said playfully.

'I mean it, Mr Bates…' she rolled her eyes, chuckling. 'Maybe it's this wonderful air...even Johnny caught it. He's even catching an accent.'

'Maybe you were really meant to be here...you are the cleverest person I've ever known. And so well spoken,' he grinned at his own words.

'Don't you mock me, Mr Bates.'

'I will, but only because you still call me that.' He smiled at her. 'I mean it though. You are the most intelligent person I know. The best person I know.'

'I hope you will always think so highly of me...Mr Bates.'

'Well...I will keep you updated, Miss Smith.'

Anna giggled, smacking his arm as she did so, before wrapping hers around his, a feeling that made him so much more comfortable than he could ever imagined. They walked slowly, the cloudy sky not threatening their journey, but rather completing the whole autumny picture around them.

'Are you trying to ditch your faithful cane?' she asked him a moment later.

'Only because that bloody thing is not that faithful after all.' He wrinkled his nose, upset at the thought. 'I would never get used to it. And in this mud it just makes it more difficult to walk.'

'But the doctor said you would have to use it until you felt no more pain...and you still do.'

'Do I?'

Anna shook her head. 'You don't fool us, Mr Bates...never will. Which is funny if you think about it…'

'Funny?' he asked, confused.

'Yes. You think you are so good at pretending, when you really aren't. At least not to your mother and me. We can read you like a book.'

'Well, it does add more proof to me saying you are the most intelligent person I know, and you know mother doesn't stand too much behind.'

'I think your mother wins, she just doesn't shout victory before the time is right.'

'Oh she does...but she's just too good at pretending she doesn't.' They both laughed at the truth of his words.

'Here we are!' Anna announced, taking the keys from her pocket and opening the wooden door of the small building. John motioned for her to go in first, as he always did, but this time, it was more than his gentlemanly ways that made him do so. The feeling of anticipation grew inside his belly, as he waited for her to lead the way. It had been years since the last time he was here, even longer when he used to learn within these walls.

The school was rather poor looking, common for a place like this, but nevertheless quite comfortable. It had only two rooms, one used as the classroom and the other as a small lunchroom with an adjoining bathroom, where the children would have a morning snack during recess.

Anna walked to her desk at the back of the classroom with a smile on her face. The big black board stood behind it and the walls had large windows; at the left facing the ocean, at the right facing endless golden fields and small houses in the distance.

'I will be receiving the lists this week...and after that the classes will start for good,' she said breaking the silence, as he walked through the room looking around and taking in this so familiar space.

'And you teach all years? That's quite a lot,' John said, impressed.

'Mrs Bates did it too. They can't afford more than one teacher.'

'Mother would teach the older ones in the morning and the little ones in the afternoon,' he explained.

'Yes, some do that but I like them all together, and then, there were far more children when you were a boy. I only have thirty two of them this year, from all years,' Anna replied, while she went through the drawers of her desk.

'That's true,' John nodded, sitting at a desk right near the window. The desk that had been his own when he was a child. His legs now too big to fit, and the seat rather small. He could hardly believe he had been sitting comfortably on this chair once. _How things change..._ 'When I was a boy there were dozens of children running up and down the land. I remember there was one year where there was sixteen children in the afternoon class alone. It was rather noisy as you can imagine, but mother managed them well enough.'

'Oh my, that is scary!' Anna exclaimed, quite overwhelmed.

'How do you do it though? All years at once?' John asked her. Her way of doing it sounded even harder than his mother's to him.

'Well...I divide the board for each year, then I give them exercises. While some work on their papers I teach the others and so on. It sounds bad, I know, but once you get used to it it works rather well. Sometimes I put the older ones helping the little ones, they all learn together.'

He nodded trying to picture the scenario. 'Different from the schooling in the mainland.'

'A lot different...but not necessarily worse,' she smiled. 'Maybe you could visit me now and then, and see it for yourself.'

'Maybe I will.' He winked at her and she rose from her chair, walking toward him as he spoke. 'I like what you did to the place. It looks almost new.'

'Children like comfort, I try to give them that in the place they most despise,' she giggled, sitting on top of the desk he was sitting at, facing him.

'I am sure they love it here, and with a teacher like you…' he reached for one of her hands. 'I used to sit here, right next to the window. Mother knew how motivated I was by the sound of the waves and the smell of the sea. How I loved to look at it while in deep thought...it helped me to think...still does. Many of the words I wrote were born here…' he sighed, remembering the time he had spent there. 'I wrote my first love poem at this desk.'

'You have to tell me all about that.' She squeezed his hand in persuasion, and he couldn't help but chuckle.

'I fancied this lass from my year. You see, I was about eight or nine, and she was already twelve I think. She was not very bright so she had failed a few years...she was smart though, but not for letters or numbers. She was good at spitting and racing, quite the fierce girl. Actually... Ailsa reminds me of her sometimes,' he smiled.

'The only difference being Ailsa is very good with letter and numbers.'

'Yes.' he grinned, nodding.' Well, she sat in front of me and well...she wore her hair in two braids, always, and the other boys would pick at them, as they do. I wrote a poem about them one day. About her golden hair.'

'Golden hair?' she asked him with a playful look on her face.

'I know! What a coincidence.'

'What did you write? Do you remember?'

'Something about her hair being as bright as the sun and her braids as neat as my mum's ironing.' Anna's laugh echoed through the room, and he couldn't help but look down at his hands, slightly embarrassed. 'I really can't remember much. I threw it away after I wrote it. It was bad.'

'Ever the romantic.' she sighed, still trying to control a last giggle.

John looked at her, surprised. 'Do you think I am romantic?'

'Aren't you?'

'No one has ever called me that,' he pursed his lips.

'I'm glad to know it.'

'Are you?'

'It means you've only been romantic with me...because you have, and you are. The most romantic person I know. In words and actions, even if sometimes so furtive and shy,' she said, looking deep into his eyes, as he looked back at her with the same intensity. His grip on her hand tightened, and he began to pull her to him.

'You are the reason for such words and actions...even before we met.'

'See. Nothing could be more romantic than what you've just said.' She could feel him leaning into her now, as he continued to pull her by the hand. Her heart raced in her chest, as if this was their first moment together, and she wondered if all their exchanges of love would always feel like this. New, exciting, as intense as burning fire rushing through veins and skin.

'And...what about a kiss?' he asked, his voice a mere whisper, and for a moment she tried to think of something witty to say.

'Not sure-' but before she could say another word, his lips were on hers, and time and space stopped once again. This time although, she was presented to a new side of his, and when she felt his tongue rasping against her skin, as gentle as a caress, she lost all sense of herself, and when she came back to earth, she found herself on his lap, tucking at his jumper and wishing this moment would never come to an end.

 **xxxx**

The rain came down now, fast and sure. Thunder could be heard in the distance. They all sat together in the front room with tea and biscuits on the side table, as the radio played a song on a low volume.

'Why does paper win over rock? It doesn't make any sense.' Johnny pursed his lips, his right hand closed in a fist and John's wrapped around it.

'Because see...paper wraps around the rock.' John explained.

'But you can rip paper apart because it's weak and you can't do that with a rock. And it's raining and all.' Johnny tried to reason but that only made John look at the boy with confused eyes.

'What does rain have to do with the game?' Anna asked, ready to take a bite on a chocolate biscuit.

'Paper melts with water, you sillies.' Mrs Bates chuckled as she knitted a pair of socks, which due to their size could only be for her son.

'Oh!' Anna giggled. 'Well, they are not playing outside though.'

'Exactly!' John said, suppressing a laugh at the boy's way of thinking. 'But you see, Johnny, it's not how strong you are that matters, but how much you can take without flinching. Yes, you can rip paper apart and that makes it rather weak but...no matter how much weight you put on its back, it will always come out intact. Now, some rocks will crumbled with weight, fall apart even, turn into pieces. Paper can take the weight of the world and come out without a scratch. Rocks rarely do.'

'I mothered a philosopher and I didn't know about it...goodness me! Now...can you help me with this, Johnny?'

'Yes.' The two of them answered in unison. Anna looked over at them as she laughed at the peculiarity of the situation. Mrs Bates was not impressed as she looked from over her spectacles, shooting a look at her son.

'Aren't you too old to be called Johnny?' she asked.

'I didn't know children ever got old for parents.' John furrowed his brow, readying himself for some scolding.

'Oh they certainly do...specially when they start answering back and not minding what their parents say. Been years since I've called you Johnny!'

'I thought old age had soften you,' he replied again, regretting immediately doing so.

'You look at this, Anna. You look at it and you pay attention...this is what they turn into when they grow up,' the older woman rolled her eyes. 'I'm going to fetch more biscuits...don't know what you two do on those long walks, but I reckon it must be tiring business. You come home rather hungry every time.' Mrs Bates stood slowly from her seat, resting her knitting on the table, but before leaving the room, she passed by her son, ran her hand lovingly through his hair and placed a soft kiss on his forehead.

'Indeed they grow…' she muttered as she walked away. 'Even when we pray for them not to.'

John rolled his eyes, his cheeks red and a shy look on his face. Anna couldn't help but chuckle. 'I think she's onto us.'

'She's been onto us even before we met,' she answered him back and he smiled at her. Truer words had never been spoken.

 **xxxx**

The next day brought more rain, a full breakfast, dark coffee and tea, and also three envelopes. One for John, two for Anna.

'Oh!' he spoke, finishing a piece of sausage. 'It's our photographs!'

'That is marvelous. I was wondering when they would get here,' Mrs Bates said.

John opened it then, eager to see how they had turned out, while Anna and Mrs Bates waited. Johnny was far too interested in the food on his plate to care.

'Ah look…' Anna began as she spotted the family picture in his hands. 'It turned out so good.'

'I want to see!' the older woman exclaimed, curious, and John handed her the photograph. 'Ah yes...this one will be going on top of my table with the others. It is lovely.' The four of them posing. John behind the two women, standing tall, and Johnny in front of them; big smiles on their faces. Their expressions happy and easy, as if they were nothing but a normal family. Mother, father, child and grandma...they weren't too far from that now.

While the women fussed over the family photo, John remained silent. His hands on his lap holding the one picture he had been most looking for. Him and Anna. Her hands claiming his arm, pulling him to her. The light that always emanated from her eyes, and his smile. A smile free from pasts and mistakes. Free from traumatic memories of shooting guns and metal cars. Free from worry. Hopeful, peaceful, adoring...as if he had been looking at her when the picture was taken, as if her touch was all he needed to bring him back to life. On that day, he was still enveloped in shadow and secrets. On that day, he was still ashamed of himself and stuck in place with fear, but in that picture nothing else could be seen but love.

'And the other one?' Mrs Bates asked, shaking him from his thoughts. 'The one of you and Anna. Show it to us.'

'Of course,' he nodded, handing Anna the photograph.

'Look at us!' she replied with a smile on her face. 'We look rather dashing, don't we?' he could only nod, and she knew exactly what he was thinking. 'What do you think?' she gave it to Mrs Bates.

'Oh goodness me, aren't you a match made in heaven?' the older woman spoke. John blushed. Anna couldn't help but grin. 'You two would make a beautiful couple.' she eyed them for a second. 'But not every mother is given the daughter in law she wants...unfortunately.'

'There's no one more subtle than you.' John lifted his brow.

'I'm too old for subtlety, my boy. At my age you say what you think or you say what you think...if it's too bad, blame your old brain for it. Claim dementia or some sort...that's what my sister in law did every time...saner woman has never existed, may she be resting in God's eternal peace.'

'I remember that...she would drink scotch and say it would help her sleep. 'Course it would. Everyone would knock out for a week if they drank as much as she did.'

'Sshhh! Don't you say such thing about the dead. They ain't here to defend themselves,' his mother warned him.

'I am just saying the truth, Mother. I'm not judging her, or anything. I can't judge anyone for that,' he sighed, trying to reason with her.

'The truth? Her husband beat her at breakfast and her two babes died still young. No wonder why she drunk. That's what the truth is. Misery brings addiction, you know it.' She looked at her son with gentle eyes and he nodded.

'That's a sad story.' Anna broke their silence.

'And we are done with sad stories,' John stated, rising from the table and ready to leave this conversation behind. 'You know what's happening today?' The question directed towards Anna, and she bit her lip in anticipation.

'My first driving lesson.'

'Your first driving lesson! As soon as we finish lunch!' he replied enthusiastically, taking his and Anna's picture from his mother's hands, before leaving the kitchen. 'I'll be in the garage if you need me.'

'Don't be nervous, dear. John will be there with you,' Mrs Bates reassured her.

'I wouldn't do it if it was someone else.'

The older woman winked and Anna couldn't help but smile. 'Oh! Your mail!'

'Oh yes, I almost forgot about it. Let me see...one must be from the directory with the school lists, and the other…'

When she read the sender's name she froze. Her palms began to sweat and she could feel her heart beating nervously in her chest. A feeling of anticipation mixed with relief and dread ran through her veins, and she had to remind herself to breathe once again.

'Are you quite all right?' Mrs Bates asked her worriedly. 'Who is it from?'

 _From: William Smith._

'Oh yes, yes I am all right. I will read it later.'

Anna left the room without answering, to Mrs Bates surprised, but she knew better than to ask her twice. She knew if Anna needed to talk about it she would eventually reach for her, but she was sure now, she had someone better to confide in.

 **xxxx**

'The break, Anna! Bloody...!'

She laughed at the frightened look on his face, his breathing heavy, as he held the sides of his seat after a rather dangerous turn.

'I wasn't going that fast!' she said, her laugh making her teary. 'I forgot where the break was.'

'That's a thing you can't ever forget…' he sighed loudly. 'Even more in a place where there are so many cliffs.'

'Seriously, I am not that bad,' she rolled her eyes.

'Actually you are very good, but still, it's your first day and you were going too fast for a first day.'

'I am adventurous, Mr Bates. Don't you know that?'

He shook his head, grinning, her playful mood making him give in. 'All right, all right. All this rain doesn't help either.'

'I told you it wouldn't be a good idea.'

'Well, if we wait for sunshine you will never learn how to drive.'

'And you could take me to places instead. I wouldn't mind that. My private chauffeur. How fancy!'

'Wouldn't you like that?!' It was his time to laugh now. 'Start the car again, let's go home. And please, don't forget about the brake!'

'Let's see…'

Anna started the car without any trouble, and soon they were on their way home. There were some bumps and shaking now and then, every time she tried to shift gears. Her hands fiddled with the gear stick, while she tried to operate the pedals. The motor stopped twice, and she allowed herself to curse.

'Bloody piece of…ugh!'

'Ha! Who knew.' he laughed.

'Who knew what?' She started the car again.

'Lady Anna Smith curses.'

'I am not a Lady, Mr Bates. And I surely don't pretend to be.'

'Well, you are a lady to me...and I never knew a finer one,' he told her in a low voice, a cheeky grin on his face.

'Honestly, Mr Bates, I am trying to learn and you keep distracting me.' She shot him a mischievous look.

John brought his hands up in surrender as the car moved along the muddy road. The day turning dark outside, the sky clogged with heavy clouds and no signs of stopping. Hours had passed since Anna had started her lesson, and she was doing well for a novice. They hadn't gone too far really; John knew it was wise not to venture too much yet, take things slowly not to overwhelm her.

The rain began pelting down harder as they reached the garage, and Anna stopped the car right at the entrance.

'Who's going to open it?' she said, looking over at him. 'It's pouring.'

'We should wait until it calms down, maybe.'

'I just don't want to make Mrs Bates wait. It's almost time for dinner.'

'Almost,' he smiled. 'Did you like the experience?'

'I did. Actually, I loved it. It feels quite empowering, doesn't it?'

'It really does.'

'It surprises me that your father had a car. I know Jeph has one but that's it, isn't it?'

'Father taught me and Jeph how to drive, you know?' he said.

'Really?'

'Yes.' John nodded smiling, thinking back to those early times of his life. 'I was fourteen. We both were. It was quite an adventure.'

'Not this car though?'

'Oh no, not this car. A much older one. Father bought this car at an auction in Edinburgh, actually. Second hand, good price. He was a good businessman, never missed a bargain. He loved these modern things, as he used to say. A good handyman, he was.'

'Your mother told me about him. He must have been a great man.'

'Oh he was,' John smiled. 'Everything I've always wanted to be.'

'Your mother says you couldn't be more alike.'

'I'm afraid she's wrong about that.'

'That's one thing Mrs Bates never is, wrong. But if you think so, you still have time to fix it.'

'You always have so much faith in me, don't you?' He looked at her, his eyes taking in her features in the newly born darkness.

'Why wouldn't I? Every time I look at you I only see good things,' she smiled at him, drawing a rebellious golden lock behind her ear.

'If I would only mind your opinion I would think myself so much greater than I truly am.'

'Well then, maybe you are the one who's wrong in all this.' She turned in her seat, towards him, bringing a hand to his cheek. 'I don't care about your past, but how you make me feel now, what we will be tomorrow. And now you make me feel like I'm worthy of a life I had quit dreaming about. Maybe that's it, Mr Bates.' Her fingers caressed his face and he let himself enjoy that moment, closing his eyes, listening to the steady sound of her voice. 'We are two broken pieces mending each other into whole again.'

'You are far from broken, Anna.' He opened his eyes to look at her. 'You are the one mending me, with your strength and compassion…love.' He took her hand from his cheek and brought it to his lips, kissing her knuckles softly.

'I shouldn't say this but...war was kind to me, in a way. I would never know how true love would feel without it,' Anna confessed.

'I love you,' he whispered before pulling her into a gentle kiss. Their tongues danced together, soft and kind, giving, as if they had known each other for a lifetime.

Inside his mind, a thought kept shouting. _If I'm so bad why does she love me so much?_ Maybe she was the proof of his bad judgment of himself. Maybe the only proof he needed to believe he could be and do better in life.

'I think we should run inside, this rain won't stop anytime soon,' he said when they broke apart. 'Leave the car here, I will take it inside later. It's raining too much for you to drive now.'

Anna nodded, and they both opened the doors, ready to run inside as fast as they could.

'Where are you going?' she asked in the rain, when she saw him running the opposite way.

'I left the garage light on!' John shouted, voices hard to be heard between the downpour.

'What are you doing here?' he asked a moment later, when he looked around and saw her there. 'You're soaked!'

'I forgot I had left my jacket here earlier,' she smiled. Rain drops dripping through her hair, her dress stuck to her body. He couldn't avert his eyes. 'Also…'

'What is it?' He noticed the uncertainty in her voice.

'My brother wrote to me. The letter is in the pocket,' she replied.

John spotted her jacket on top of a crate and grabbed it, wrapping it around her shoulders. 'You are going to catch a cold,' he brought the fabric closer to her skin, gently pulling the wet locks away from her neck.

'Would you read it for me? I mean…' she took the letter from the pocket. 'Read it, and if it's bad I will throw it away.'

'Of course.' he nodded, smiling tenderly at her.

This was sort of new to him, this side of her. A side that was as hurt and afraid as he had been. How ignorant of him! To think she was unscathed after everything that happened in her life. She had once said experience came from living and not from old age, and indeed for someone so young she had lived quite a bumpy life. If this was the protection she needed now, he would give it to her. More than his past mistakes, seeing her hurt and worried would scar him even more.

Anna handed him the letter then and he opened it, clearing his throat softly before starting to read. Her eyes grew wider as his silence prevailed, and she tried to find any trace or clue of happy news and peace. She knew her brother was alive now, and that for itself was good, but she needed to know more. She needed to know where they were, as brother and sister, as the friends they'd always been.

And then, he began to smile, and she could swear there were tears on his eyes. 'You will want to read this,' he told her, looking at her hopefully. 'You certainly will.'

' _My dear sister,_

 _I know it's been a long time since we last communicated, and for that I am the one to blame._

 _I am ashamed. Ashamed that I lacked the courage and left you all alone when you most needed me. Ashamed that I forgot how much you mean to me. Sad that you are so far from us. I let myself be influenced by our mother's words and for that I am truly sorry. I know what happened and I know what made you leave your old life behind, but as your brother, I should have never abandoned you to your own luck. I know it's too late now to take it all back, but war made me realise how important you are to me... how badly I behaved._

 _Maybe one day I will be able to see you again, meet my nephew and visit you in your new home. Maybe one day soon._

 _Anyway, I hope you found comfort and peace, and I hope you find someone willingly to make you happy and love you as you deserve. Maybe that man will be much better than all of us, and he will care and support you instead of judging you like we did. I do pray for that every night. Bless you, Anna._

 _With all my love, William Smith.'_

Anna couldn't contain her tears as she read her brother's words. Words she had been waiting for a long, long time. She brought the letter to her chest, almost trying to prove to herself that indeed this was real, and when she lifted her head she saw John looking at her. Gentle eyes and tender smile, an expression of undying love and happiness for her. She let herself lean against his chest and he welcomed her there with open arms.

'Thank you,' she whispered. The warmth of his skin travelling its way through the wet fabric.

'Whatever for?'

'For doing this for me.'

He stepped back enough to look her in the eyes, taking her face gently between his large hands. 'I would do anything for you, Anna.'

Before he could say another word, she kissed him again, wrapping her arms around his neck to bring him closer.

Their clothes were wet but their bodies fought for heat, the rain outside still pouring and the smell of wet clothing lingering around them. His hands travelled to her back, holding her close to him. Her jacket fell to the floor and her thin soaked dress was the only thing in his way. He felt daring, bold even, the passion of the kiss and the noises she made as he tasted her made him almost unable to think. He dropped his hands to her waist, feeling the sways of her body, so delicate against his fingertips. Their chests were pressed together and he could feel her breasts, her breathing, her heartbeat. For years he had never desired any woman. For years he thought he would never feel hot and daring again. For years he was sure he would never feel the warmth of a woman's embrace ever again, and truth to be told, he hadn't really minded that. He had been with enough women to know meaningless relations were worst than being alone..but now, after Anna, after dreaming of her in such a passionate way, he hoped that one day he would know her so intimately. That she would give herself to him willingly, as he was ready to do just the same.

'Anna…' he broke their kiss, his hands on her arms. 'We should stop,' he breathed. A rush of dangerous need travelling through his body, stopping precisely where he least wanted it to...when he knew exactly where it would linger.

'I am sorry,' she giggled. 'I was taken by the moment.'

'Don't be sorry, my sweet.' He caressed her cheek with his thumb.

'We should go back in the house.' She took his hand and squeezed it. 'Your mother must be waiting for us.'

 **xxxx**

'Can't sleep?' his mother's voice startled him in the silence of the night. The fireplace was lit, and he stood there, a mug of tea in one hand, the new photograph in the other.

'I've been writing and I thought a tea break would be nice.' He smiled at her, as she sat down on the sofa, and immediately he tucked the picture of them in his shirt pocket.

'That's good to hear. What you been writing about?' John shot her an obvious look. 'All right, all right. You shan't ask a writer more than he would like to answer.'

'I'm hardly a writer these days. I'm hardly anything really,' he sighed, taking a sip on his tea. '

'What do you mean?'

'I mean...Anna will be back to teaching in a few days and here I am...I should do something. I have to earn money. I can't live off your kindness any longer.'

'You fool. I am your mother, there's no ceremony between us, much less living under my roof for kindness.'

'I mean it,' he said decisively. 'You have savings, that's it. How much do they pay you for keeping the lighthouse? Five pounds a month? Maybe not even that.'

'Anna's rent money helps,' his mother tried to reason.

'And she wouldn't have it any other way, but money spends fast and we eat every day. I should find something to do. It's only right. A grown man living off his mother's savings and from a young woman's income, that's ridiculous.'

'What will you do?'

'I told you I wanted to clean out the garage, and I was thinking...I could turn it into a nice workshop, maybe I can start fixing things, I don't know. Like father used to do.'

'What about the boats?'

'What boats?' he asked, confused.

'Your father's boats. I have them rented out. There was no one here to use them anymore.'

'Become a fisherman?'

'Not quite but...a manager. There's five boats working at the moment. Two more rotting away. You could bring the men back together, offer them work. Selling the catch to the mainland as they used to before. Turn it into a proper business.'

'I've never thought of that.' He looked at the fire thoughtfully. 'Would they do it, though? They are used to being their own masters.'

'They would if you would make them a good offer. If you make Jeph agree with you, they all will. He's a big influence. A sort of master without actually being one. He's got four of the five boats. Make him a good offer. They will all follow.'

'That's so crazy it would probably work.'

'You were daring once, John...daring for what you should have not been. Bring it back to life. To a new life. This time it will be worth it... for the matter of the heart is already settled. You won't be suffering anymore about it.'

'What do you mean?' he asked, facing his mother, knowing too well what she meant.

'Do you think me blind and demented?' she chuckled. 'Whispers in the dark, lingering touches, shy smiles between every word spoken...I was young once, and I was too in love. Or do you forget I ran away with your father right after I met him?'

John nodded, taking in his mother's words.

'I know what you think? You barely know each other. There's so much more to learn still, to discover about each other. To know. I thought about all that the night before fleeing Ireland and all I can say is, although those thoughts are all very smart, I am glad they didn't keep me from leaving. I knew it would be your father or no one else within the hour of meeting him...sometimes that's all that takes. One hour, or a photograph.'

He smiled, almost teary. His mother never failed to impress him.

'But just promise me one thing, for Anna.' Mrs Bates stood and walked towards him, taking his free hand in hers.

'And what's that?' he asked, ready to promise whatever she wanted him to, for Anna.

'Do marry her. I don't care what you've been up to on those long walks of yours -' John tried to interrupt his mother, telling her it's not what she was thinking. _Nothing happened...at least... not yet._ 'Listen, I don't care. Just marry her before another Johnny comes along.'

'Mother, for goodness sake, I wouldn't be so reckless.'

'I am just saying...there's no more war now to send its father to die in. And after that kiss you both shared in the car...well, it won't take too long before another step is taken.'

'You were spying us?' he widened his eyes.

'I heard the car and wondered why you were taking so long. Of course you took much longer in the garage, but what the eyes don't see.'

'Mother, please.' John rolled his eyes.

'You are a grown man, John, and she's well...she's young but she's a grown woman. And times are changing and you both love each other. She has a son, everyone knows that. Things are more easily done, there's not such great consequences.'

He wasn't liking the sound of his mother's speech, although her words were far from being wrong. 'Just be careful, John Bates. Or I will be the one killing you.'

His mother left him there, alone in the night, and he took the photograph from his pocket, ready to admire it again. Indeed he would marry her. That was all he wanted. He wanted a family with her, he wanted to be Johnny's father in the best way he could. He wanted them to have their own children, to live happy forever in this beautiful place. And for the first time in his life, he believed his dreams could actually come true. For the first time in years, tonight, he dared to dream and hope.

January is the beginning of the year, but many say it's in September when life begins, and it was September that had John believing again.

* * *

 _ **Next Chapter:** Samhain's festivities and swimming under the night sky. _

_**Thank you for reading :)**_


	11. Blessed

_**A/N:** Good evening everyone! I hope you all had a good week :) Thank you so much for your follows, faves and reviews! I feel the love and it makes me very happy :D_

 _I hope you enjoy this chapter! "Someone" is going to ... well, you read and find out ... :P_

 _ **(Isis The Dog** : I hope you are feeling better now! xXx **)**_

 _ **Disclaimer:** Same as chapter 1-10. _

* * *

**\- Blessed -**

The morning of Samhain's Eve. The end of harvest season and the beginning of wintertime. For folks on this Isle, where life was conducted by tempests and sunshine, country life and the change of tides, these ancient seasonal festivities were an important cultural mark that everyone liked to celebrate. The preparations had run smoothly, from generations of practice. Women had been gathering around the fireplace at night for weeks, discussing who would do this and that. The men waiting for their orders, ready to start working as soon as possible, even if it meant long hours after a day's work.

Children beamed with excitement and anticipation. The school was chaotic these days, and Anna tried her best to keep up with her pupils enthusiasm, handing them things to do within the theme. Cards, drawings, decorations...everything she could think of.

'That's a witch!' one of the boys replied when John pointed down at his drawing. He had been visiting Anna for the last week, helping her with the preparations as much as he could.

Boys and girls wandered around the classroom, talking with each other and comparing their masterpieces.

'Oh! A witch…' John chuckled at the boy. He was sitting on a small chair, his legs stretched out trying to find a comfortable position. 'Very good.'

'I'm going to draw a black cat now,' the boy told him, poking his tongue between a gap in his front teeth, trying to focus on his work.

'I drew a witch too!' Ailsa approached them with her paper in hand. 'See.'

Indeed that was a witch. Mole on the tip of her nose and all. 'That's very good, darling!' John said, before looking over at Oliver, waiting for the boy's response.

'It's good, yes…' the boy nodded, a cheeky smile spreading across his lips. 'She's as ugly as you are.'

John froze at his words. _Oh no_. The girl looked at her classmate with a hurtful expression on her face. Her eyes travelling immediately to John's, her mouth beginning to pout and tears gathering.

'I'm going to tell Miss Smith you called me ugly!' She punched the boy's shoulder and threw her witch at him.

'No.' John grabbed her by the arm, pulling her to him. 'Listen, there's no need for that. Hm? He didn't mean what he said. Isn't that right, Oliver?'

'I did,' the boy replied, focusing on his drawing. 'She's bloody ugly.'

'Oliver!' John shook his head. 'Come here, darling.' He took the paper she had thrown to the floor and rose from his chair. 'Let's go to your desk. You'll show me what else you can draw.'

'He's always saying I'm ugly.' Ailsa sniffed, sitting in her chair, tears streaming down her face. 'He says I have sick dots on my face.'

'What? He's a silly lad, that's why. Your freckles suit you, my darling.' John ran his hand over her neatly done braid, before cleaning her tears with his thumb. 'You are beautiful. He'll regret saying that when you have all the other boys chasing after you...then you can tell him to go suck on his own finger.'

Ailsa eyed him questioningly. 'Nevermind,' John chuckled. '... you will understand when you are old enough.'

'Why is she crying?' Johnny walked over to them, a worried look on his face.

'She's not crying anymore. See!' John said in a cheery voice and the girl giggled. 'Now, why don't you sit here and together you can draw something else to hang? Miss Smith was saying she wanted more apples.'

'Yes! I am good at drawing apples.' Johnny sat down next to his friend.

'Good. You do that then.' John smiled at the pair before walking away.

Anna was leaning over onto another desk, helping the younger children to paint inside the lines. Today she was wearing blue again. The colour that suited her the most. Her hair was loose at the back and its sides tied in a pretty braid. She had changed her fragrance a few days ago. Before, she smelled of roses with a hint of country flowers and new. Now, the roses were still there, but mixed with lavender and fiery desire. A smell that had settled in the pit of his stomach and would rear itself mostly at night, when he was alone and dreaming of her. Dreaming of her in his arms and against his naked skin. Her voice in his ear and her hands roaming his body as eagerly as his.

More than two months had passed since their first kiss, and many, many more had been exchanged since then. Some chaste and soft, others fierce and passionate. All of them making it too difficult to control _that_ next step.

She trusted him too much, he knew that. He saw it in her eyes whenever they were alone, that she trusted him to guide their relationship down the moral path. That he wouldn't allow them to cross the boundaries. She trusted him with her life, and that power frightened him, when in truth he was only a man. A man in love. The one he desired within his grasp, ready to give herself to him, without a second thought. It was torture sometimes, when between kisses and embraces she would call him by his Christian name. It was torture the way his body responded. The way they were so meant for each other.

At what point would he be unable to resist? When all he wanted was to show her how much he loved and cared for her?

'You're staring, Mr Bates.' She shook him from his thoughts, with a smile on her face. 'Don't you have nothing else to do?'

'I've been helping with what I can...but I'd rather stare, to be honest,' he grinned.

'You silly beggar.' She walked toward him, leaning into him, whispering. 'That's not very proper of you when there's all these children in the room,' she teased.

'I'm just staring, Miss Smith. And just so you know, I've been busy with witches and bright red apples and all sorts. I found out I'm not that bad at drawing brooms either.'

Anna laughed. 'They are all so excited. Bless them. I think they love this more than Christmas.'

'Christmas always wins because of the presents, really,' John replied, nodding.

'I think so too. Anyway,' Anna turned to the room, shaking her head at the sight before her eyes. 'Look at you all walking around and talking as if this was a lounge...come on. Sit down. Finish your drawings and then... we will be reading a scary story!' She clapped her hands together, enhancing the excitement of her words.

'Mr Bates could read!' Johnny spoke from his seat. The classroom went silent for a second before the children began to cheer at the idea.

'Oh my, isn't that a wonderful idea! What do you say, Mr Bates? Would you read us a scary story?' She smiled at him, a daring look on her face, thrilled by her son's suggestion.

'Well, if you all insist,' he said, and another wave of approval travelled through the classroom. Perhaps the first time he had felt so welcomed in a room full of people.

 **xxxx**

John's low and steady voice was all they could hear now. The children focused on every word. Gasps and holding of breaths could be heard now and then. A room full of wide eyes never left him as he turned the pages of the book, sitting in Anna's chair, facing the classroom. He had been nervous at first, and he had had the need to clear his throat twice before starting, but once the rhythm was settled there was no turning back, and he found that he loved entertaining the class this way.

'...and with the wind and rain, they rested, not knowing they would be watched over for he rest of their days... The end!'

Everyone took a deep breath after his final words. Even Anna had been hypnotized by the sound of his voice. The children were now in sort of a trance, waiting for their teacher to say something. Their little hearts racing on their chests, hoping this tale wouldn't follow them into their dreams.

'That was rather marvelous! Wasn't it?' Anna said, rising from a small chair, and walking toward John at the head of the room. 'We should thank Mr Bates for giving life to such a fantastic story.'

The children thanked him all in unison, and he couldn't help but blush. A proud smile creeping over his features. 'It was my pleasure,' he replied.

'Do demons really exist?' one child asked. Her eyes wide and worried.

'Are they really hiding ready to shove us into a sack and take us from our parents?' another one questioned. His voice shaking in fear.

'It's a story, children. Stories are meant to shake and to move us, but that doesn't mean they are true. And no, they won't shove you into sacks.' Anna replied, glancing over at the big clock on the wall. 'Oh goodness! Time to gather your things and go home.'

'I hope I did well enough,' he spoke as she sat at her desk a moment later, organizing it as she always did before leaving.

'More than just well, Mr Bates,' Anna smiled. 'Actually...so well, I've been thinking, maybe you should be the storyteller. I'm sure they wouldn't disagree. You could come every other day. Tell them a good story just like today. They loved it!' she suggested.

'I think that's a good idea! I liked reading to them. They're a good audience,' John smiled, looking over at Johnny who was cleaning the blackboard, as he always did. 'Need help?'

'I can never reach the top,' the boy said, stretching his arms as far as they'd go.

'Here,' John walked toward the boy, lifting him up. 'One day you will, you'll see.'

Johnny giggled happily, reaching all the spots he hadn't be able to, and marveling at the easiness in which John held him in the air. Anna, in her chair, couldn't help but smile lovingly at the two. _When had she become so lucky? So filled with joy and hope? So happy it seemed more of a dream than real life?_

'Will I be as tall as you, Mr Bates?' the child asked him when John put him down, wanting so badly for the answer to be yes.

'Well...I don't know. Was your father a tall man?' John's question was directed at Anna.

'He was tall…' she said quietly. 'Not as tall as Mr Bates, though.'

'Rats.' the boy sighed upset, making his mother chuckle.

'Oh it's fine. My father wasn't as tall as I am either. Children tend to be taller than their parents. I reckon it's evolution.'

'I'm the shortest in my family,' Anna remarked, wrinkling her nose.

'Well, but you are perfect the way you are,' John said, and she shot him a mischievous look.

'You are indeed a charmer, Mr Bates. Let's go now. I am rather hungry.'

'I am so hungry I could eat a whole cow!' Johnny exclaimed, running from the room.

'Aren't you always?' Anna shook her head with a smile on her face, as John helped her into her maroon cardigan and scarf. The cold days had arrived for good on this Isle of theirs, and soon the three were walking home.

The boy ran ahead of them, kicking rocks and whatever else he could find to kick down the road, occasionally picking a late blooming flower and running it back to his mother, only to run off again. John and Anna held hands. The wind was blowing through the tall grasses. The ocean was rather blue, and the sun was trying to warm up the chilly air. No clouds today, or any threat of coming storms. Only clear skies, a cold breeze and a bright sun, casting a spell of a golden Winter in the nature around them.

'What did Jeph say about your proposal?' Anna asked him as they walked. The warmth of his hand was travelling up her arm and through her body. She knew she would never feel cold of spirit ever again.

'He said he needed to think about it, but he liked what he heard. I told him to talk with the others. He will give me an answer when he has one,' John replied, looking ahead at the boy in the distance.

'I think his answer will be a good one. Everyone respects you here. They know you. You all grew up together.'

'But you see, these folks don't like change. They're used to their ways and for them their ways are the best. That's what I'm afraid of.'

'You should trust them more. Maybe they don't like change but this is exactly the opposite,' she replied.

He looked at her with questioning eyes.

'You're bringing their old way back. This Isle was once a great provider of fish to the mainland, wasn't it? Well then, you just want to bring that back. Back to those glorious days, isn't that so?' Anna reasoned.

'You sound like my mother,' he said with a chuckle.

'Well, thank you. I wouldn't mind sounding like her every day,' she smiled.

'No…' John shook his head grimacing. 'I wouldn't want you to. It would be too odd to be married to my mother.' He laughed at his words.

'Married?' she stopped in her tracks.

'Well... I mean-'

'Mummy! Mummy, look! Macbeth is running after the seagulls again!' Johnny called in the distance. The black dog dancing chaotically with the birds.

'That's one silly dog.' John smiled.

'Yes…' Anna wasn't really paying any attention.

When he looked at her again she averted her gaze, looking down at their hands. But before they could go into deeper conversations her stomach began to rebel. The noise making her laugh loudly.

'You did say you were hungry,' he laughed with her pulling her along with him. The cottage now in sight. 'Are you excited about tonight? I am rather. Been years since I've seen a bonfire night.'

'I am. Especially because it's my first bonfire with you.' she took a deep breath, tightening her grip around his palm.

'Indeed, that makes it even better.'

 **xxxx**

'Johnny, stand still, darling,' Anna begged as she tried to dress her son in a warmer jacket and a beanie. The boy was too excited to meet his friends and to play the typical games of a night like this.

'Ailsa and Tim are already waiting for me!' the boy protested.

'And they will be when you arrive.' Johnny pursed his lips, not happy with his mother's response.

'Shall we go, Anna?' John grinned as he stuck his head inside the little boy's room.

He looked like a child himself tonight, going on about the bonfire all afternoon since they had arrived from the school. He and Johnny had been quite the pair, driving the two women almost insane. 'Mother is already there,' he added.

'She said she would go earlier to help. We should take some money to buy something...they are sending the profit to the mainland.'

'Why?' Johnny asked.

'Because the people are in need. The war is over but there's still much work to be done. Lots of little children to feed and house. Poor souls.' Anna sighed, managing to button the last button of her son's jacket.

'They are receiving aid from the United States as well, did you hear that?' John remarked.

'I did. That is good. The more the help the better. Let's go now?'

'Yes!' the two _boys_ answered in unison and Anna couldn't help but roll her eyes lovingly at them.

The night was chilly but strangely enough no one was cold. The cover of such festivities warming their bodies and spirits as they arrived at the local pub, the place where people gathered to celebrate such occasions. There were benches outside, all around it. Stalls with food, drinks and games. A big bonfire burning high above their heads, illuminating miles away from here.

John imagined that if someone was watching from afar, this would look like a quaint little scene, illustrated like in the children's books from older times. Indeed there wasn't a better place to be than here. Their Isle. His _home_.

'John! Anna!' his mother called them as soon as they arrived, beaming with pride at the sight of them arm in arm. 'There you are.'

They smiled at the group of old ladies, all sitting together on wooden benches. Women John knew well from his childhood days.

'You two make a beautiful couple,' one said.

'And for when's the wedding?' another asked.

'Will it be in Tobermory's? I've heard some folks like to get married at Drimnin, on the mainland, but why even bother? We have a good church at the bay,' yet another one spoke out.

'Do you forget he's divorced? God can't bless two weddings,' the first one pointed out, rolling her eyes.

'Right. But they have a registrar at the bay anyway. Were you married under God's blessing, Miss Smith?'

'Goodness me, look at you old crows. Let them be,' Mrs Bates spoke up, trying to get her friends to shut up about it at once, while Anna and John tried not to look too self conscious. 'You go on and have fun. The night is for the young.'

'My, we were nearly eaten there,' Anna scoffed, as they walked away, the bonfire making her sweat. The questions thrown at them by the elderly women had been a bit disconcerting.

'Nothing happens here, they like a good gossip. Don't mind them,' he smiled, trying to put her at ease once again.

'Yes…' she took a deep breath. 'Anyway, let's have fun! The night is ours, as your mother said.'

'She said the night was for the young,' he teased her.

'You stop right there, Mr Bates, before I give you a smack here and now.' They chuckled at her words. 'Let's go to the stalls. I want to see where Johnny is.'

'There he is!' John pointed out.

'Let me check if he wants to buy something...you know, he's probably hungry again!' he nodded smiling as she walked toward her son.

John looked out over the crowd. There were people from all over the Isle, and all gathered together as one big community. Voices were loud and cheery. Men would drink into the night, and he already spotted some wives warning their husbands about the matter. That made him chuckle. His father would be one of those men if he was still alive. Not that he drank too much, but whenever there was something happening he would be the first to put down a glass of good Scotch. Now that he thought about it...he had never seen his father drunk, in need of being dragged back home.

He missed him the most at times like this, when he knew the two would wander off to the beach or the cliffs later in the night, and watch the stars over their heads and talk about everything. They had been companions more than father and son. Friends, brothers, seeking the meaning of life… and in the end they drifted apart as strangers. All those moments and memories left behind, almost erased by alcohol and a weariness of life. As Kafka had said 'The meaning of life is that it ends.' And unfortunately for the two the end had come too soon and sudden, with no time for amends and apologies. No time for a proper goodbye.

'John! How are you? I have good news,' Jeph announced, approaching him. A cigarette in the corner of his mouth, smoke coming from his nose and his left eye almost closed.

'Have you? Tell me then!' John urged, anticipation building inside him.

'I have reached an agreement with them fishermen. They like the idea.'

'Do they really?'

'Yes. Bring back those glorious days...we're going to fix the boats that are rotting away. With those two we have sixteen all together,' his old friend patted his shoulder, as always too forcefully.

'That is grand!' John grinned. 'Sixteen?!'

'Yes. You just have to tell us when you want it, and how you want it.'

'Yes…'

'You still want to buy the boats, right?'

'I do! I just didn't know they were so many. But I'll buy them. Give me time though, until the end of the year and I will give you an answer to when I will be able to. You know that it will be slow at first...I'll have to speak with people, get contracts for the selling of the fish. I will have to go to the bay soon and see who I can find there that's interested.'

'It's a deal then.' Jeph stretched out his hand and John took it. The smoke from his cigarette making him a bit sick. 'Until the end of the year. I may know one or two men who could be interested. I can come with you. Just let me know.'

'Thank you, Jeph. You're a great help. I'll want you as my partner on this.' John tightened the grip on the man's hand one last time.

'I will be your partner whenever you need me. I'm glad you are back. Mr Bates would be proud.' Jeph took the cigarette from his mouth, throwing it to the ground.

'Thank you.' The thought of his father's blessing meaning more to John than he could explain.

'Where's your wooden companion?' he asked John, looking down at his leg.

'Don't need it anymore. I've been managing rather well without it. It was only temporary.'

'That's good! With a lass as young as Miss Smith, you can't have no sticks following you around.' His friend chuckled. 'They like 'em fit and strong.'

John nodded quite unsure at his friend's words. The skin of his neck flushed. He looked at the bonfire in need of an escape.

'Now,' Jeph continued, patting his shoulder again. 'I won't keep you anymore...there's a young lady waiting for you over there,' he gestured toward Anna with his head and when John looked he saw her smiling at him, her eyes bright with the light from the fire. Her hands behind her back and her body swaying with the sound of music. He walked over to her then, bidding his friend a good evening.

'Are you enjoying yourself?' she asked him when he came near her. 'What did Jeph want? Good news?'

'Nevermind that.' he took her hand in his and pulled her out of the crowd of people. 'Come.'

'Wait!' she stopped them, shaking her head lovingly at him. 'Let me tell Mrs Bates to keep an eye on Johnny first...where are we going?'

'For a walk.' he said decided. 'Go on, tell her. I'll wait.'

 **xxxx**

They walked on the beach, hand in hand, as two young sweethearts in the early Spring of life. And maybe that's what they were now, together. Nothing but two souls completing each other, with the intensity of young emotions and the lasting of true love. The sea was calm, asleep. Still as a pool bathed in moonlight and stars. Dark as the sky above their heads.

'I love the moon,' she said, her voice nothing but a whisper. 'You can admire all you want, stare all you want…'

'That's why they say moon is a woman. The woman you love, and when she loves you back. You stare and she always answers back. Her light never fades, even though the darkness around her. It will always shine... it will always come back to you after cloudy and stormy nights.'

'And why do they say the sun is a man?' she asked him.

'Well...the sun provides I think, like the men did back in old times. Provides for life. But if you look too long it will burn your eyes...it provides but it also hurts. As a man, he cares but he's also violent. I think that's what it means.'

'Not all men are violent though.'

'All men are.' he sighed. 'It's what we are. All boys fight with their fists. Girls...they shout.'

Anna laughed. 'I can't see you fighting. I mean...when you were a boy.'

'Oh I fought, all right. I was terrible. I mean, not _terrible_ but if there was a fight John Bates would be right in the middle.'

'Usually for a girl?'

'Especially for a girl.'

'So you've been always a charmer,' she stated.

'Ha! Hardly. That's why I fought.'

'Why are we here?' she looked over at the sea. They'd been walking for sometime now, from grass to sand. Talking about everything they could think of, or just remaining in silence as they often did. A comfortable kind of silence that suited them more than words. They found expressions in touches and smiles...they could live a lifetime just with lingering glimpses and longing gazes, as long as they could hold each other, they didn't need nothing else.

'Because I live for moments like this with you. The nights are ours. Ours alone,' he proclaimed slowly. A delicious smile spreading across his lips as he looked over at her.

'Your words leave me speechless sometimes, you know?' She sighed, smiling down at their walking feet, trying to mask her teary eyes. Indeed his words left her speechless. They were often so heavy with emotion that she didn't know how to respond. The happiness she felt every time she heard his declarations awoke a burning desire within her soul.

'For good reasons, I hope,' he said.

'For the best of reasons.' She squeezed his hand softly to emphasise her words. Her eyes bright under the moonlight. He couldn't help but pull her to him and put an arm around her shoulder, kissing her temple tenderly as he did so.

'When I look at the sea…' she continued. '...like this, so quiet, I feel like swimming in it. You know, at night, when it's cold…maybe...I've been reading too many stories of swimming under the night sky on winter nights.'

He could feel the teasing in her voice. 'Maybe you have,' he chuckled.

'Would you still do it?'

'How do you know I did it?'

'Well, you wrote about this Isle and you named your character after your father...I reckon it's a tale about your own self. Or at least most of it.'

'Sometimes you're too smart for your own good.' He shook his head, smiling.

'You still have to show me all those things, though.'

'What things?'

'I've never been to the caves, for example. The waterfall.'

'I'll take you there whenever you want,' he promised.

'Good to know. But answer me, would you do it?'

'Swim?' John asked.

'Under the stars on a night like this?'

'You mean now?'

She nodded. 'I dare you.'

'Stop it. You don't know what you are asking for.' He eyed her with a playful grin on his lips.

'I'll join you,' she offered.

'Anna…'

He felt her hand leaving his and when he looked at her, she was walking slowly to the edge of the sea. When she stopped there, she turned around to him, a smile gracing her features, the moon the only light he had to make her out in the darkness of the night. He looked up to the land behind him and he saw the glow from the bonfire, far away from them.

'Will you join me, Mr Bates?' Her voice made him look again, and he noticed the discarded cardigan on the sand, her hands travelling to the back of her dress.

He took a deep breath at the sight and walked to her. 'Are you really doing this?' he asked and she nodded, her dress falling to her feet. The pearly silk white of her undergarments luminous against her skin.

'I am!' she giggled, turning around to the sea once again, after removing her shoes and her stockings. 'Come, Mr Bates.'

The water was freezing when it came in contact with her toes and she laughed nervously at the feeling. The wind blowing gently against her, the fabric of her underdress fitting the curves of her body like a glove. Before diving in, she slowly lifted her slip over her head, tossing it in his direction, a teasing smile spreading across her lips, as she saw him there, frozen in place, with the silky piece of fabric in his hands. She dove in with nothing but her brassiere and panties, and this time he was the one left speechless.

'Spoil sport!' she called from the water, immersed to her chin. Her jaw trembling with cold but she could only grin at the situation. 'Come on, John! I'm not the best at swimming.'

His words came back to him immediately. 'Are you serious?' he widened his eyes, unsure if he should believe her or not.

'Yes. But I trust you to save me if I need to be saved.'

John could barely see her in the water now, her figure a mere mirage. The slip in his hands and the warmth of her body still present. He swallowed hard, looking at it. His fingers touching the silk like material, trying to control the urge to bring it up to his nose. Instead, he dropped it to the sand, together with his clothes, and not five minutes later he walked to the ocean wearing only his undershorts. The cold of the night making the hairs on his body raise, his breathing heavy and his fists clenched.

He was young once and he did this almost every night. The freezing water made him feel alive. The numbness of limbs and lips felt better every time. His body had been used to it, many years ago...would he still remember those times of freedom and youth. When he was nothing but himself, pride and a thirst for adventure and life. For bold dreams and a future within his reach. When he was nothing but his father's companion and his mother's son. A boy worth everything.

He tossed himself under a shallow wave, and when he came back to the surface she was there, ready to welcome him in her arms, and the moment she looked him in the eyes, she saw him different than before. Younger, lighter. Finally free.

'Marry me,' he whispered in her ear. The feeling of her wet hair against his face too wonderful to resist. He kissed her neck softly. Their bodies freezing under the sea, but the raw warmth of their emotions making their insides boil.

'What are you saying?' Anna spoke, giggling. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders as he supported her under the water.

'Marry me, Anna. As soon as you can.'

She couldn't stop smiling. _Was he being serious?_ 'Is this a proposal, Mr Bates?'

'Were you not expecting one? I want to marry you, Anna. I have since the first moment I laid my eyes on you. Don't you want to marry me?'

'That is all I want!' she said, pulling him into a passionate kiss. Her hands caressing at the back of his head, feeling the wet softness of his hair. Her legs now around his middle, and she had been oblivious to when that had happened, only noticing it when she felt his hands travel down her body, stopping when he reached her buttocks, holding her as close to him as possible. They broke the kiss then, smiling at each other as they did so.

'You're hairy,' she giggled, one of her hands coming to his chest, feeling the coarseness of dark hair she found there.

'Don't you like it?' he asked her.

'I love it actually...it's nice,' she looked in his eyes for a second, unable to suppress yet another giggle. 'It suits you. So manly.' The other hand joined in the roaming of his chest. He took a deep breath, enjoying the feeling of her curious fingertips.

'I hope the rest of me is as pleasing as my chest…' he said, his brow lifted and a teasing look appeared on his face.

At first she didn't quite grasp the meaning of his words, but when she did, he earned the smack that she had been promising for the past few months.

'Mr Bates! I didn't you know were so naughty.' She pursed her lips, trying to look serious, but her pretending didn't last too long.

'You never knew me as your fiance,' he winked. 'Neither have we shared an ocean in underclothes as we are doing now.'

'That is true.' She sighed dreamily, running her hands along his broad shoulders. 'And I am sure I will be pleased with the rest of you.' She shot him a mischievous look.

'I am sure I will find you rather pleasing as well,' he told her, kissing her neck once again. Her squealing making him smile against her skin.

His mouth travelled along her jawline until it reached her cheek, then the softness of her lips, lingering in there for a slow kiss. One that left them both breathless, and in need of more. He looked down at their bodies, her breasts pressed against his chest, her breathing heavy. The feeling of her freezing body against his and the softness of her skin under the salty water taking his mind to places...dangerous places. Dangerous thoughts. Thoughts of taking her to the shore and claiming her for his own. Love her until the night was day again.

He sighed loudly, resting his forehead against hers. Things only to happen after their vows, he had promised. 'We should go...it's cold and...I don't want anything to happen before we're married.'

'I know,' she said.

'I want you, Anna, more than anything but-'

'You don't need to explain yourself to me. I am here now because I trust you with my life...I wouldn't want it to happen in any other way. I want to be your wife, John.'

He smiled happily before placing another kiss on her lips.

Then they were running from the icy water, shivering for all they were worth, rushing to get back into their clothes. The bonfire now soft in the distance. A gentle whisper of what it used to be.

When they arrived home, Mrs Bates was sitting on the sofa with her knitting, the fireplace lit and an unimpressed look on her face. She shook her head at them.

'I reckon you two don't mind dying...you sit here, John, next to the fire. And you run a hot bath before you freeze where you stand.'

'Where's Johnny?' Anna asked, furrowing her brow. Her son nowhere in sight. 'Did he stay?'

'Oh yes. You know those beggars. Ernest is bringing him home when they go.'

Anna smile nodding, before leaving the room and heading upstairs, eager to immerse her cold body under steamy hot water this time.

'What?' John asked. His mother eyeing him suspiciously.

'So when's the wedding?'

John shook his head confused.

'It's not every day you go about with that silly look on your face. Sillier than usual. Swimming at night, under the stars…ever so the romantic courting. I hope you both kept your clothes on, and judging by how dry they are...at least your undergarments.'

'For your information...' he began and Mrs Bates shifted to the edge of her seat. An expectant look on her face. 'Nothing happened.'

'And?' she insisted.

'I asked her to marry me.'

'Oh thank the Lord my prayers were answered at last!' She stood from her seat, grabbed her son's head and kissed his salty hair loudly. 'Now this is a decision Reade would be proud of. Marry a girl like Anna and take in little Johnny without a second thought. You are a proper man, John Bates. I knew you would give me many joys in life when I first laid my eyes on you.'

John looked up at his mother with a serious expression on his face, waiting for her to continue. 'People make mistakes, John. Children make parents suffer. That's life. We don't love them no less for that. It only makes these good things even sweeter...to know that after everything you are truly happy now, for a mother that's all that matters.'

He remained silent for a few seconds, taking in his mother's words, as she ran her hands through his hair. The heat coming from the fireplace finally reaching his skin. Memories of many years ago playing in his mind.

'I wish father was here. We parted so badly...I just wish he was here now,' John said, tears gathering in his eyes as he leaned his head against Mrs Bates middle. The familiar motherly feeling unable to stop him from crying. He tried to muffle his sobs in the fabric of her skirt. 'I am so sorry for what I said to him. So sorry for what I did to both of you.'

'Sshhh. We know you didn't mean it. We were young once, rebellious once…' She tried to soothe him, holding his face close to her body, caressing his hair as she did so. 'Listen, why don't you visit his grave? You've never been there...it would do you good.' John tried to protest but she interrupted him. 'You don't believe in God but you believe in people, don't you?'

He nodded.

'Take Anna with you. Tell her about him, open up with her. You will feel better, I promise.'

'I don't think I will ever feel better about Father…'

'Oh but you will. There will come a time when you will. I promise you that. For years I lived in pain for what I'd done to my parents...but eventually you have to forgive yourself. Dry your tears, son.' She looked up at the ceiling then, listening to Anna's steps. 'She's done and now it's your turn, before you catch a cold.'

'Thank you, Mother.' He rose from his chair, leaning down to his mother and hugging her tightly to his chest.

'Don't you forget...you are exactly like your Father was. Exactly like him.' She told him softly with a proud teary smile on her face.

His mother's words would follow him to bed that night, together with the feeling of Anna's hands against his chest and the prospect of a life he never thought possible about happen.

Samhain had been good to him that year. He had been blessed.

* * *

 _ **Next Chapter:** A day at the Bay, hasty preparations and Christmas time. _

**_Thank you for reading! :)_**


	12. The Happiest

_**A/N:** Good evening everyone! Another chapter, a pretty long one. __Lots is going on and everything is coming together nicely for everyone! Will that last though? hehe we'll see...we will see :P Hope you enjoy this chapter. Happy week!_

 _ **Isis the Dog -** I am so happy to hear that the surgery went well and I'm sending you all the good vibes for what's coming next :) And don't worry about reviews, your health is so much important! Take care xXx _

_**Disclaimer:** Same as chapter 1-11. _

* * *

**\- The Happiest -**

It had been an early morning for John. The rain and wind had awakened him even before light, and he had found himself sitting at the kitchen, listening to the storm and his coffee brewing.

Sleep had come as soon as he rested his head on the pillow, lulled by his mother's tender words, but once he was awake his mind began to revive every memory of their night, every plan he had made. He had so many things he wanted to share with Anna, to let her know. They should marry soon, as soon as possible. They should start thinking about the ceremony. Did she want guests, or something more private? What about their honeymoon? Maybe he should look for a nice place for them to stay for two or three days, just to get out of the routine. And would they stay in his room or hers? He couldn't wait to have a proper conversation with her about it. To let her know that his proposal was a serious one. If she would let him he would marry her tomorrow or even today. All he wanted was to call her his wife...and who knows in the future the mother of his children.

His thoughts were shaken by familiar steps and he turned around to see his mother blinking the remains of sleep from her eyes.

'You are early!' she told him, followed by a lazy yawn. 'And already making coffee.'

'You know the rain hits harder against my window,' he smiled at her.

'That's why I never understood why you wanted that room so much. It's beautiful to see the ocean when the weather is nice but in times like this is just nasty and noisy.'

'I like the sound, mother' he smiled.

'Oh well...you've always been kind of odd in your ways...as much as Reade was.' she shook her head walking toward the kitchen counter, ready to start making breakfast. 'I reckon you will all be starving today...Johnny from all the fun he had last night and...well, you and Anna from all the fun you had...last night,' she lifted her brow, facing the window. The day was colourless, but her heart warm at the prospect of her son's bright future. _Finally!_

'I suppose you are right,' John chuckled, his coffee nearly done. 'Jeph spoke to me last night. He said the men liked the idea...problem is, there are sixteen boats and I said I wanted to buy them. I know they are not expecting me to make money with them right away, I would be paying them for the boats in installments but I didn't know they were so many.'

'Didn't you? You see them out every day. They look more like an armada than fishermen.'

'Yes but...I don't know. Sixteen is a lot. I mean, that's good, but I will have to take longer to pay for them and I'm not sure they'll like that,' he sighed. 'I have my savings and all but I will have to wait for someone to back us, someone with money, and that won't be happening any time soon.'

'And why do you say that?' Mrs Bates asked him.

'Mother, no one will be tapping at my shoulder begging to go into business with me. I will have to work hard for it. And it will take some time before we make money...I hope the men are as patient as they seem to be.'

'You know there's no one more patient than a fisherman!'

'I know but still…' John pursed his lips.

'Well then, I think it's time to let you know about it…' Mrs Bates sat with her son at the table, looking at him with a serious expression on her face. 'Now that you want to start a proper business and that you are going to get married to a decent girl.'

'What are you talking about?' he asked her, confused.

'You see, Reade has left some money...I didn't know about it until he fell ill.'

'Money?!'

'Yes. It came from his grandfather you see, and then his father saved more, and then your father saved more...that's why he walked around dressed in rags rather of proper clothes. I know you remember.' she rolled her eyes. 'Told him time and time again that he looked more like a beggar than anything else but he wouldn't listen. Didn't go to Ireland in that state that's for sure, else I wouldn't have looked at him twice.'

John laughed at his mother's words. 'I remember.'

'Too modest, a good saving bank he was. Never spent a penny as waste. That's why he loved bargains. He had such a way with his words he would make people sell him gold for the price of dirt. His father was like that too. Anyway, ask them to put a price on the boats. You can at least pay it in two parts. I think there's enough money for that and then, you have to think about your wedding as well.'

'My God,' he couldn't believe his ears. '...why...why didn't you tell me about it before?'

'You never asked,' the older woman shrug her shoulders. 'And then, I didn't want that wicked wife of yours to live off it anyway. And I am sure even if I told you about it you wouldn't let me help you, but now you will. Your father saved it for a time like this.'

John smiled tenderly at his mother, before she stood up and continued where she had left. Breakfast wouldn't make it itself and soon Anna and Johnny would come down to eat.

'Thank you, Mother,' John said, leaving the table and walking toward her. 'I won't be able to thank you enough for this.' He rested his hand on the back of her neck and she turned to face him again.

'You just be happy and that will be all that I need. And then, that money is yours. I was just keeping it safe until the right time came.'

He leaned into his mother and kissed her forehead softly, taking in the smell of her white snowy hair. The same smell he always looked for when he was just a boy in need of her soothing arms.

'Isn't this the sweetest of sights!' Anna's voice came to their ears as she entered into the kitchen with Johnny by her side, a wide smile on her face.

'It has a reason to be!' John replied walking to her and placing a loud kiss on her cheek.

'Oh goodness, such good mood, Mr Bates!' she giggled shyly.

'I think you know why,' he winked at her. 'And you, Johnny? Did you sleep well?'

'I did!' the boy nodded, smiling. 'And I am hungry now.'

'Oh! I better get this eggs fried at once then. Can't leave a growing lad waiting too long. That's why my John grew so tall. He never had to wait for food,' Mrs Bates remarked.

'Then don't make me wait, Mrs Bates. I want to grow as tall as Mr Bates!'

They all laughed together at the boy's words. Rain poured outside but inside this house there was nothing but sunshine.

 **xxxx**

'You should quit smoking.' John advised Jeph as they drove to the Bay days later. The sky didn't give them a break. Large raindrops fell on the car glass. The windows were shut and the smell of cigarette was making it hard for John to breathe. 'I'm going to open the window,' he said.

'You are going to get all wet if you do,' his friend warned, holding the wheel of the car with great practice.

'Better wet than dead!'

'So...I know this fella, Mark...Mark Helmer? Mark...whatever, Mark something, and he's into the canned business now, you know. Apparently folks are all into eating food that...I mean, all good if you are in need but some fancy folks do buy it too. They export. Scotland, England, Ireland, Europe, even America! A few months ago he was at the Bay telling the world he didn't have enough product to sell to all his clients. He makes business with factories but he also sells fresh fish, and it got me thinking the other day when you talked about that idea of yours…'

'That's grand, Jeph!' John said surprised at his friend's enterprise. 'I've read about it before. You've got an eye for it, I tell you. But, how do you know he will be there today? Does he live here?'

'Nah. He lives in Liverpool, but he comes to the Bay every other month.' The cigarette dangling between his lips dying slowly. 'His cousin owns a pub there, and I know for a matter of a fact he's there today 'cause he told me.'

'So, that's where you go when the family doesn't know where you are?' John gave him the eye.

'Listen, Mr Turner is a good man and all but his pub doesn't have many choices...I do like some of those new beverages they got there. Mr Turner has either beer or scotch. Sometimes a change is good for your mood.'

'Ailsa made a bet the other day, that you won't be home when the baby is born. Apparently, you never are.' John chuckled.

'I was for my eldest, all right, and let me tell you something about matters of childbirth...you want to be as far as possible and come home when it's over. You won't be fretting over it nor waiting while your wife wails from upstairs and curses you for makin' it happen,' Jeph laughed loudly.

'Anyway...are you excited about it?' John asked him.

''Bout what?'

'The baby!' John rolled his eyes.

'One's always excited about it. I won't deny it, it's nice to have a big family, children all 'round the table to grace our old age. But this one will be the last and that's it. The wife agrees. Five is a good number.'

'I reckon it is!'

'What about you and that Miss Smith of yours? Thinking about something more than holding hands?' Jeph laughed at his own words.

'Yes.' John answered short, looking out of the window as he did so. Indeed he was getting wet.

'Yes?' his friend reacted with surprise.

'Yes.'

'All right, don't tell. I will end up knowing anyway. Oh! Here we are...let's find Mark Something and see if today will bring more than this bloody rain!'

 **xxxx**

Back at home, Anna sat at the kitchen table. Her hand supporting her chin as she looked outside of the window. A sigh escaped her lips right before Mrs Bates came in.

'You seem worried, my dear. Whatever is the matter?' The older woman walked toward the counter carrying some herbs in her hands. Tea time was upon them once again. 'Are you having doubts abou-'

'Oh no, Mrs Bates.' Anna shook her head. 'There's no doubt in my mind. I want to marry your son,' she smiled.

'You tell me what's bothering you then. Maybe I can help?'

'It's just...I was never married.'

'Well, that's not the news of the year in this house…' Mrs Bates chuckled. 'The people who need to know that already do. What's the problem?'

'You see, John will need my documents to set the date at the registry and...they will know I was never married. I was born Anna Smith and they will see that. Everyone knows me here.' she said worriedly.

'I see...you are afraid they'll spread it around.'

Anna nodded.

'Have you told John about it?'

'Not yet.' Anna answered. 'I just wish we could marry here. I'm sure he would prefer that.'

'Nonsense. He would prefer to marry you and that's it. You can marry on the mainland, there are plenty of registries near by.' Mrs Bates tried to cheer her up.

'And I have to tell Johnny about it. He doesn't know.'

'The lad will be pleased to no end. He loves John!'

'Oh I know he does. I'm not worried about it.' Anna smiled.

'And have you settled a date between you two?' The older woman eyed Anna with an expectant look on her face.

'Yes.' Anna bit her lower lip anticipating her own answer. 'January. The first week maybe.'

'Oh goodness me! In a month! You are eager, I can tell,' Mrs Bates said happily.

'It's just...we both waited so long to be happy...I would marry him today if I could.'

'Oh I know what that's like.' Mrs Bates sat down at the table with her, crossing her arms. Her eyes focusing on past memories. 'Passion has a way of taking over one's mind...Mother told me once these sort of fiery passions are the ones to extinguish first. That all this rush to be with one another is just like hay fire. Burns out fast and there's nothing left afterwards. I reckon she was wrong, you see...maybe in some cases that's what happens but then, there are many good people taking their time with courting and all sorts to have unhappy marriages in the end.'

'Yes. I think what matters is the matching of spirits more than anything else. I've never felt so connected to anyone as I feel with Mr Bates,' Anna confessed with a dreamy look gracing her features.

'Still Mr Bates?' the older woman questioned, grinning.

'It's an habit now. I'll have to grow out of it.' Anna giggled shyly.

'I'm sure you will. When will you tell Johnny?'

'Tonight, when Mr Bates arrives. We want to tell him together.'

'Oh, that is good,' Mrs Bates nodded. 'Do you know when they are coming back? I should start thinking about making dinner.'

'He said he would be home for dinner but that was it…I can help you?' Anna asked.

'Certainly! Help is always welcome... Where's the lad, by the way? And Macbeth?'

'They are upstairs. Johnny was playing with his toys.'

The two women rose from their chairs, ready to start cooking. A stew would be on the menu. Chicken stew with boiled potatoes and peas. The tea was ready and they would drink it between stirs and peeling.

'Shhh Macbeth, don't make any noise,' the boy whispered to the dog as they both sat on the stairs, listening to the two women talk. 'Let's go,' he said with a big smile, and the dog obeyed, following him up the stairs into his room. 'Did you hear what they said, Macbeth? Mr Bates is going to be my father after all!'

 **xxxx**

'And what did he say?' Anna asked enthusiastically. Mrs Bates waited in silence to hear her son's response.

'He's coming here after the new year with a contract for us to sign!' John replied and the women cheered. 'He loved the idea but I need to organise everything first. Get the men together and all that. He gave me until January the tenth to do it, and that's what I'll be doing. It doesn't mean we will sign it yet though, he wants to see first.'

'Goodness me! Aren't you busy?! Just don't forget about that other _thing_ you have to do,' his mother said with a nod, looking over at Johnny eating his dinner.

'I would never forget about that.' John replied shooting a knowing look at Anna, and she smiled at him in return.

Later that night John and Anna found themselves in Johnny's room. The boy getting undressed with the help of his mother before taking his daily bath.

'I want to use some of that…' the boy wrinkled his nose, trying to think of a way to word it. 'That thing Mr Bates uses on his face. It smells nice.' he said tapping his cheeks, mimicking John.

'His cologne?' Anna asked and the Johnny nodded. 'Darling…' she shook her head. 'You have to ask permission first. And then, the smell might be too strong for you.'

'Let him,' John smiled. 'He can use it. I reckon he wants to impress the girls in his class,' he winking at the boy.

'Uh-uh! I just want to smell like Mr Bates, now that he's going to be my father.'

'What?' the two asked in unison.

'What are you talking about?' Anna questioned her son, a confused look on her face.

'Oh, I've just heard you and Mrs Bates talking about it,' the boy said calmly. 'Macbeth and I did. He knows too.'

'You beggar! Were you eavesdropping on us?' Anna rested her hands on her hips, trying to suppress a chuckle. Sometimes her son was too smart for his own good.

Johnny frowned. 'Maybe I was, but only because I heard my name.'

'Ha!' John laughed. 'Well...I guess we are clear.'

'Do you understand what that means, Johnny? Me marrying Mr Bates?'

'Sure I do. You are getting married and then we are a family. I can even get like…' the boy widened his eyes. 'Four brothers and sisters just like Ailsa has! Can't I?'

John smiled down at the boy and Anna couldn't help but feel the skin of her neck heating at the thought. 'You can have all you want, lad,' he told Johnny. 'But take things easy. We have all the time in the world now.'

'But not to sleep!' Anna remarked, looking at the clock. 'Go on, sir. Let's scrub those ears and feet…' Johnny giggled excitedly as he ran ahead to the bathroom, leaving the two behind.

'I hope his demand of brothers and sisters hasn't scared you.' Anna said, smiling shyly.

John felt a question lingering in her words. A silly question, he thought. How could such a beautiful idea scare him? Children with Anna...could there be a better dream than that?

'It hasn't. Not one bit,' he told her in a slow and steady voice, before telling her to tend to Johnny before the water got cold.

She nodded silently, his answer moving her inside. The thought of having children with John was almost overwhelming in the best possible of ways. For the first time she would dream of children with the man she loved, and plan for them. That itself made her feel complete. That she could chose her life now, as she hadn't been able to do before. Empowering even. A wonderful prospect.

'What did you want to tell me?' he asked her hours later. The house silent and the others asleep. The rain still pouring and thunder echoing as they sat together at the kitchen table in their nightclothes and robes. Their hands joined, caressing each other's skin. A warm feeling in the air and two mugs of steamy tea.

'We can't marry at Tobermory's, I'm afraid,' she told him, sighing disappointingly, her fingertips playing at the hem of his sleeve. 'The registrar would know I was never married. Everyone knows everyone here, people would find out about it.'

John furrowed his brow. 'I hadn't thought about that.'

'And why would you? It's all my fault.'

'Shhh, don't say that.' He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. 'I know very well you weren't married and I don't care about that. And it's not your fault either. You would be if…' he stopped his words before it was too late. Some things were not to be mentioned, only thought. She would probably be married to Richard if the man had survived, and John...he would never have her. He would never know what happiness was.

'Well, we have to go somewhere else,' she continued.

'And we will. There's no problem. We can catch the ferry and that's it. It will be different. A day out. Maybe we can have lunch there and walk around before coming back home.' He smiled at her, squeezing her hands. His speech made her feel confident about it.

'That sounds nice,' she smiled.

'I was thinking...should we...well, stay somewhere else?' His words came slow and his voice was a mere whisper. Too tentative, too gentle. 'For two or three days? Have a short honeymoon just for the sake of it?'

The thought made her blush slightly, but she knew better than to agree. 'I think we shouldn't. We shouldn't spend money on that. You need it now, more than ever, and then...I just want to be with you, no matter where, and I do love this house. Also...' Anna averted her eyes for a moment, her cheeks turning rosy.

'What?' he smiled, trying to understand the shyness behind her eyes.

'You'll think me silly,' she told him.

'I would never! Go on.'

'I think, well...this Isle brought us together. I think we should be here,' she giggled, bringing a hand to her face, as John stared at her, admiring the wonderful glow of joy that graced her features. She had been made for happiness and love, nothing else but that. 'What?' she asked him as a smile began to form on his lips, his eyes never leaving her.

'You are absolutely right. There's no other place we should be for our first night together than here.'

'I still can't believe we will be married,' she sighed deeply, her hands playing with his own.

'There's something I want to give you,' he continued, taking a folded paper from the pocket of his robe. 'It's the first thing I wrote when I arrived here. It's a poem, for you. Very bold of me I know,' he chuckled. 'But those words were stuck inside my heart since the first moment I looked at your picture. Read it in bed though, I don't want to see you doing it, not yet.'

Anna shook her head with a teasing look in her eyes. 'Don't worry, I will read it when you are not looking.' She took the paper in her hands and put it in her own pocket.

'We should decide in what room we want to stay. Yours is bigger than mine, so maybe? Also, it's next to Johnny's if he needs you. We would be between his room and mine, and well…' he looked at her, grinning. '...in the future when…'

She knew exactly what he meant. 'When we have children…'

He nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. 'They could stay in the other room too. They would be close if they needed us. Mother sleeps in the other end anyway.' Anna listened to every word he said deeply moved, tears threatening to be shed and a joyful smile on her lips. 'What is it?'

'Nothing, it's just…' she suppressed a sob. 'In my whole life I never thought I could be as happy as I am at this moment.'

He smiled, pulling her to a tender kiss. He ran his hands through her hair whilst their tongues played together, tasting each other as they had always dreamed of.

They broke apart in need of hair, his eyes following his fingers through her hair, as he spread her locks and felt them against his skin. 'You are beautiful, Anna.'

After a few more kisses and daring touches they parted and went to bed. Married life appearing in the horizon. They could feel it already. Hands against naked limbs and heated moans, the smell of each other in the morning light. The sheets wrapped against their bodies as they moved together as one. All those memories yet to come making it almost unbearable not to live it all at once, right now, right here, while the others slept.

But instead, he kissed her knuckles at the door of her bedroom, lingering in the feeling of her soft skin against his lips. Her eyes filled with passion as they bid each other goodnight, knowing all too well they would be together in dreams. As they always have been.

In her room, she took the letter from her pocket and read it sitting in bed. She could hear every single word in the sound of his voice, as if he was breathing them there, right into her ear. The letter wouldn't leave her hands that night, as she fell asleep holding it against her heart, savouring every single meaning, writing his poem into herself. It would be with her forever.

 **xxxx**

'Oh it's lovely!' Mrs Bates told Anna as she sat on her bed. The young woman was showing her a white dress she had picked from her wardrobe earlier that morning, and now asking her future mother-in-law an opinion about it. Would it do as her wedding dress?

'Do you think so? I mean, it's the best I've got really.' Anna pursed her lips, unsure. The dress was beautiful really but… 'I couldn't go in blue, could I?' she asked.

'Well, you could if you wanted to. It's in the registry anyway. You can wear whatever you want really,' Mrs Bates replied.

'Oh then...maybe,' Anna blushed, looking at her dresses. 'Mr Bates likes when I wear blue. He says it suits me the best.'

'Oh well, wear a blue one!' the older woman chuckled. 'I'm sure he'll enjoy it. You can wear white underneath.' Anna eyes widened at her words. 'Don't you be shy with me!'

They both laugh lightly. Their conversations always came easily, as two friends that had known each other for years.

'Actually…' Anna sat down beside her, grabbing a magazine from her nightstand. 'I've order something nice to wear underneath,' she smiled, biting her lower lip.

'Have you?' Mrs Bates asked with a rather curious look on her face.

'Here, what you think?' Anna showed her the magazine.

'Goodness me that's beautiful!' The older woman took it in her hands, drawing it farther away from her eyes to see it better. 'It looks something a lady would wear.' She was quite impressed. It was a beautiful piece. 'John will like it.'

Anna giggled. 'Yes...I thought I should spoil myself, I mean...well, yes. I really like it. I've never bought fancy undergarments before.'

'And you should! A woman must feel confident and beautiful for her husband. And the husband should feel the same if you ask me, no matter what those old crows say.'

'I agree!'

'Well, I approve of everything. You are going to be such a beautiful bride!' Mrs Bates rested the magazine on top of the bed, looking at Anna with a tender smile and a proud look in her eyes. 'Wait here,' she told her, standing up. 'There's something I want to give you.'

Anna nodded, storing her dresses back in her wardrobe while she waited. Something Mrs Bates wanted to give her...now that was intriguing. What could it be?

'Here…' Mrs Bates came in the room again carrying a small leather box in her hands. When she opened it Anna gasped. The most beautiful pearl necklace she had ever seen. 'My husband gave it to me on our one year anniversary,' the older woman said, sighing as she did so. A longing smile creeping onto her features. 'I would like you to wear it. I didn't get to on my wedding but every bride should wear pearls.'

'Oh Mrs Bates.' Anna took the box with tears in her eyes. 'Thank you so much. I am honoured! It's are beautiful.'

'Oh yes it is...and it's filled with happy memories and so much love. It'll bring you all the happiness you deserve, I'm sure of that.'

'I'm sure too.' The bride to be wrapped an arm around Mrs Bates' shoulder and kissed her cheek tenderly. 'I couldn't be living in a better place for that, with better people.'

'Oh well,' the older woman smile, sheepishly. 'You don't wear that blue dress again though, only on your wedding day. For good luck. He will be seeing you before the ceremony but…'

'I won't, Mrs Bates,' Anna guaranteed, placing the box in her nightstand drawer.

'You know...I still don't understand why you don't call me Margaret.'

'I couldn't.' Anna smiled. 'I'm so used to calling you Mrs Bates...maybe one day, who knows.'

Mrs Bates looked at her lovingly. 'Ah! They are here. Let's see what good work have they done...John was never very good at picking them.'

Anna laughed at her words and they both left the room and went downstairs, ready to see with their own eyes what the two _boys_ had brought home.

 **xxxx**

'So! Is this the best Christmas tree ever or what?' John asked, holding the tree upright, almost reaching the ceiling. His nose was red and the first flakes of snow had began to fall. 'Bit wet but we shook most of it off.'

'And you will shake the rest of it outside before you put it in the front room.' Mrs Bates rolled her eyes. 'But indeed it's a lovely tree!'

'Aw it's beautiful! It will look perfect with the decorations.' Anna clapped her hands together, excited. 'I will help you cleaning it better, before it starts snowing for good.'

'I helped carrying it!' Johnny said proudly. A beanie atop his head, thick gloves on his hands and smelling of John's cologne.

'Actually, he was the one who found it. He's got a good eye for pine trees, I must say.' John smiled down at the boy.

The three went outside again, trying to clean the tree as best as they could, while Mrs Bates found the perfect spot in the front room to put it.

'Put it there, careful with the table, John!' she commanded some minutes later while her son carried the tree around. 'All right, there it's perfect. Far enough from the fireplace.'

'The house already smells like Christmas,' he said.

'Now, we just have to start decorating!' Anna added excitedly, as she opened the old boxes in which Mrs Bates kept the decorations. 'Johnny, come and help me! Look...a reindeer!'

'But before that, let me brew us some tea and take those biscuits from the oven. We ought to eat first!' the older woman said, walking to the kitchen, fairly beaming, pleased to see her house so full of life once again.

'Let me see…' John kneeled beside Anna and Johnny, watching as they took all the pieces out. 'There was this Father Christmas decoration that I loved. It reminded me of granddad. I hope she still has it.'

'This one?' Johnny asked, handing him a very old doll, dressed in green and white with a long beard and wooden eyes.

'Oh yes! That's the one...It's looks rather daunting now, doesn't it?' He pursed his lips, showing it to Anna.

'Well, it's the eyes, I think,' she replied.

John laughed,'Oh well...can you hang it on the tree, Johnny?'

'Yes! I'll hang it,' the boy answered enthusiastically. 'What else?'

'Oh look, an angel. Here, Johnny.' Anna handed the delicate decoration to the boy.

Not long after, Mrs Bates came into the front room again, carrying a tray with tea, biscuits and some sandwiches. Their day would last until later in the night when the Christmas spirit could be felt all over the house. The tree had turned out grand, indeed. The little boy had done a good job with the help of the adults. There were also ribbons on the doorknobs and some decorations in the kitchen. Stockings by the fireplace. Anna had found a red and gold tablecloth in a drawer that Mrs Bates didn't remember about. The house was ready and so were they. Their first Christmas as a family.

The snow outside fell heavy now, casting a white magic spell on the landscape. Disguising this so rich and colourful nature as a still picture drawn many years ago. There was something wonderful about it. The ocean dark and the land frozen. The black sand of the shore as pale as chalk. Christmas day coming running toward them. Rushing as it always did. Making one wonder if time flew away from one's eyes.

There's something about wintertime that's so fast, like a dazed dream in the early hours of morning. Shorter, colder days that seem to never last long enough, even though when they come one promises to enjoy every minute of it.

And Christmas morning came upon them just like that. The day outside as cold as the weeks before. Snow, wind, silence. A sleeping nature awaiting for Spring to arrive.

It was the boy who awoke first, shouting to the world it was Chritmas day. A day all children are eager to meet, get out of bed before anyone else, and run to the tree. That's what he did.

'It's Christmas!' he cheered, running down the stairs barefoot. The dog following him around.

'Oh goodness, let's see if baby Jesus has brought what you wanted.' Mrs Bates said, sitting down on the sofa.

'Father Christmas did! Mr Bates said so.' Johnny replied eyeing the few wrappings under the tree. 'Baby Jesus is only a baby. He couldn't really carry all the presents, could he? And how?' the boy continued and Mrs Bates looked at her son with disapprovingly as he came in the front room in last. Something had held him a few minutes behind.

'Anyway,' Anna began, trying to suppress a chuckle. The disagreements between mother and son always made her laugh. 'Let's open them, shall we?'

'To...John!' Johnny read, kneeling on the floor, ready to start handing out the presents. 'From your...be...loved mother!'

'Oh goodness,' John smiled. 'It's either socks or socks...! A tie?!'

'A proper tie,' Mrs Bates told him. 'You need something new to get married in. Anna helped me picking it. She said...the colour matched your eyes.' The older woman chuckled heartily as her son took the green tie in his hands.

'It's beautiful, Mother. Thank you.' he said.

'There will be warm socks though, just you wait. You won't get away with it.'

'And this one…' the boy continued. 'To Johnny! That's me, mummy!'

'And from whom?' Anna asked before he could unwrap it.

'From John!' Johnny smiled, unwrapping the present as he did so, an eager look on his face. 'My own cologne!' he was ecstatic, holding the bottle in his hands. 'And a new cap!'

'Oh! Isn't that nice?' Anna smiled over at John. 'I thought you said you were having trouble finding him a present.'

'I was. I never bought anything for a child...I, you know…' he whispered. 'I knew what you had for him so I wanted to get something different, then I thought how much he loves my cologne.' he chuckled. 'And that old cap of mine.'

'It's perfect, Mr Bates.' she told him, running a hand across his cheek.

'Thank you, Mr Bates!' Johnny rose from the floor, running to John and hugging him. His small arms too short to take in the man's broad frame, but nevertheless the boy tried his best to hold him tight.

'You're welcome, son.' John said, holding the boy in his arms and kissing the top of his head. His voice shaking a little with emotion. He loved this boy as if he was his own. And in a way he truly was.

The two women watched in silence. Anna tried her best to stop her tears. Kneeling herself on the floor and reaching for the remaining presents. The meaning of this moment making her heart ache in her chest with so much love for her two Johns. To know that her son would have a father after all, already did. To know that her darling boy would have everything he deserved...

'Well, let's continue.' she spoke, her tears now controlled, looking over to see Johnny now sitting comfortably in John's lap. His new cap atop his head and the bottle of cologne in his hands. She had never experienced a happier Christmas before.

John's pair of socks were next, and then a warm cardigan for Mrs Bates, given by her son. ' _To keep you warm while you wash that one you always wear.'_ He had teased his mother with a playful look on his face.

Anna offered her a new velvet box for the older woman's glasses and a scarf that matched John's present. They had agreed in doing so.

From Mrs Bates, Anna got gloves and warm socks, and a beautiful blue and ivory shawl that she suspected it had been offered to match the dress she would wear for her wedding.

Johnny got three more gifts. A wooden painted plane from his mother; one that he had been eyeing in a storefront every time they went to the Bay, and socks and a warm handmade jumper from Mrs Bates.

Only one more present left.

'Well now…' Anna began, taking the heavy box in her hands. 'This one is from me to...Mr Bates.'

'To me?' John widened his eyes. 'Let me get it, Johnny,' he told the boy, sitting him on the sofa beside him and placing the box on his lap. 'Oh my...the biggest box! You didn't have to.'

'Open it!' she insisted.

'Anna!' his smile couldn't get any bigger. 'A writing machine?!'

'I bought it second hand but works as good as new. I feel like you need an incentive to write and well, you are so busy now, you need something that saves you time.' She smiled at him, happy with the excited look on his face. She couldn't wait for him to start using it.

John couldn't keep his eyes off his present. 'I love it!' he said.

'Well, that's it then! Time for breakfast.' Mrs Bates spoke, rising from the sofa. 'Johnny come with me. You'll help me today.' She held the boy by the hand and took him with her, leaving Anna and John alone in the room.

'Was that on purpose?' Anna furrowed her brow, suspicious.

'What?'

'Your mother leaving the two of us alone?'

'Well…' he chuckled. 'As you may have noticed you didn't get a present from me.'

'I have noticed, yes.' she eyed him playfully.

'Come here, will you?' John tapped the sofa beside him, after placing the writing machine on the floor.

She sat.

'First of all…thank you for your present,' he began, placing a soft kiss on her lips.

She closed her eyes into it, dreamy and sighing against his skin.

'Now…' he took a little box from his pocket then and handed it to her. 'I think this was missing.'

'No! Mr Bates...you-'

'Open it, please,' he smiled.

She took the box and opened it to see a beautiful golden ring with a small shinning stone. A delicate piece. Anna's eyes became teary as soon as she saw it, and she didn't waste any time to take it from the box and give it him. 'You put it on my finger,' she said.

'So you liked it?' John took it, looking at her with expectant eyes.

'I love it. It's the most beautiful thing...I shall never take it from my finger. This and my wedding ring.'

He slipped it on her finger, slowly and gently, almost as a caress, and she didn't take too long to pull him into a kiss after that. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to her. 'I just hope it wasn't too expensive, there was no nee-'

'Shhh,' he touched her lips with his fingertips. 'There's something else,' he said, almost breathlessly.

'Goodness!' she laughed.

'I've booked the registry.' he lifted his brow grinning while his heart raced in his chest in anticipation.

'What? When?' she asked confused.

'I went to the mainland last week. I went in the morning and then came back on the afternoon ferry, _then_ , I talked to the men. I lied.'

'And you said you took hours trying to get them to understand what you wanted! You cheeky beggar!' She smacked his arm and he tickled her. Her laughs putting him at ease. 'When for?'

'The fifth. Saturday so you don't have to go to work the next morning. What do you think? I hope you don't think I was too forward.'

'I think I would marry you now if that's what you wanted.'

'A new year for a new life. I think that's rather poetic,' he said and she nodded kissing his cheek. 'And tonight when you go to bed you will have a book waiting on your nightstand. A new book.'

'A new book?'

'Yes, I placed it there before coming down. A collection of poems for you. My own and some of my favourites from other writers. I wrote them all down for you.'

'You spoil me, John.' She hugged him tight, nuzzling her head in the crook of his neck. He smelled delicious today. Better than ever, although his scent was precisely the same. Maybe it was all due to this coming together of dreams.

'No. You spoil me,' he whispered. 'Whenever you kiss me, whenever you say you love me. Whenever you call me John. Whenever you look at me. But you know...I don't mind one bit. I would die happy now.'

She ran a hand through his hair. 'And I will make you even more happy if I can. We will make each other happy. The happiest.'

In twelve days they would be married. In twelve days they would be the happiest they had ever been.

* * *

 ** _Next Chapter:_** _Wedding day, a letter and good business._

 ** _Thank you all for reading! :)_**


	13. Dreams Come True

_**A/N:** Good evening everyone! Here I am again with another chapter. It's been difficult for me to post every Friday, as you may have noticed, so I'm not saying that anymore. Keeping a schedule for fics is hard, especially when the chapters are so long and "real life" gets in the way. _

_Also, this chapter was getting so long I had to break it, so you will only be reading until the wedding night. The letter and the good business I mentioned in the latest 'Next Chapter' will come in chapter 14, which is not that bad because you all get an extra chapter ;) Lucky you!_

 _Enough with notes now. Thank you all for your reviews! I hope you enjoy this chapter. Happy week xXx_

 _ **Disclaimer:** Same as chapter 1-12._

 ** _Rated M for this one._**

* * *

 **\- Dreams Come True -**

The house was alive that afternoon in early January. The children played outside; a snowman was being built with an old cap and a scarf they had found in the garage, now that the weather seemed to be resting from the previous storms they had had. The sun shone, its heat barely kissing the earth's surface, but enough to warm people's spirits. Is there anything better than sunshine on winter days? Remains of hope that refuse to give up in what seems to be an endless spell of darkness. It tells you nothing but that after the storm a new day always come. After darkness there's always light.

That's how John felt now. Immersed in light and joy. In weatherless days. In his heart it was always Spring. In Anna's eyes the sun always shone. Together they were warm and resistant, ready if needed to face any storm.

'Have you chosen your wedding dress yet?' he asked her, coming into the room with some of his clothes in his arms.

'Oh yes, but...you won't get to see it until tomorrow.' She sat on her bed, watching as he placed his items beside her.

'And why not?'

'Good luck.'

John shook his head smiling, walking toward the wardrobe and opening its doors. 'Well, I don't think there's any space for my clothes in here, to be honest.'

'We'll make it work,' she replied approaching him, her lips pursing at the sight. Indeed not much would fit. 'We can always move that chest of drawers in the spare room here, can't we? If Mrs Bates doesn't mind.'

'Oh she won't. That chest was mine, actually, when I was a boy,' John said, running a hand through her dresses. His eyes curious.

'What are you doing, John Bates? Don't you dare try to guess which dress I'll be using.'

'I won't. I promise,' he closed the doors, chuckling. 'Let's get it in here so we can have everything sorted. I like my clothes all neat and tidy.' His voice was playful but she knew how much he meant it. John was a very organised man, and she liked that in him. She was too. Sometimes they were so different, and yet so alike.

'Me too. Do you think we both can do it?' she asked as they walked out of her room, and he shot her a teasing look.

'I'm sure. We are both strong people, aren't we?'

Anna rolled her eyes lovingly as they entered the spare room. The chest of drawers was empty and with little effort they were able to drag the piece of furniture to Anna's room, trying their best not to damage the floor. Mrs Bates wouldn't like if that happened.

'Oh it looks good there, doesn't it?' Anna said. The chest right next to the wardrobe, the two complementing each other.

'It really does. And there's still plenty of space.'

'Yes! Also, you can move your writing things here...my desk is big enough. Unless you want to use your room as your writing office,' she suggested.

'I'm not sure...but we don't need to think about that just yet. I'm not much of a writer anymore,' John sighed.

'A writer is always a writer, and don't forget about your new typing machine. You ought to use it.'

'I already did. And I will keep using it. Even if I don't make a profession out of it, I want to continue to write…' he said, staring out of the window, his mind miles away, his eyes distant. She felt his thoughts wandered beyond land and sea.

'I wonder if we will fit in this bed,' she tried to bring him back. 'It's not the smallest but...I am sure you take a lot of space.'

'Oh we will fit, don't worry.' He came back to her, turning around to face her, a smiling playing on his features. 'We will have to sleep close, really close.' He approached her then, pulling her into his chest and she went willingly, resting her head just under his chin, as he took in the delicious smell of her hair. 'So close...tomorrow.'

'I can hardly believe it,' she whispered, her arms tight around his middle.

'There's only one more thing I need to do, and I need you to come with me.'

'And what's that?' she questioned.

'I want to visit my father's grave,' he told her as he tightened his grip around her shoulders. 'I thought today was a good day for that. The weather is nice for a walk.'

'Of course. I will go with you, whenever you want me to.'

 **xxxx**

'You've never been to his grave?' she asked him as they walked hand in hand. The day beginning to lose most of its light as the sun set behind the sea. Groups of seagulls chirping madly in their nests made on the slopes, while others tried their luck fishing in the freezing waters, together with the men that now began their work. Men that soon would be working for John.

'No…' he sighed. His expression a disappointed one.

'Of course, you couldn't. I'm sorry.'

'It's all right.' he shook his head, managing a small smile to her before looking ahead again. The letter his mother had written to him now right in front his eyes as if he was reading it for the first time, not knowing the heartbreak that was hidden in that envelope. His father had died, that's what his mother wrote. He died during his sleep, in peace, at home with her. John's world had shattered at his feet then. No other words had been so painful. His heart had stopped for a second, memories coming alive once again, so vivid, piercing through his soul as a hot bullet shot from the enemy's weapon. That had been it, his chance had been missed.

'I promised myself I would come back after the war and start again. With my mother and my father,' he continued. 'I would apologise for everything I'd done and life would be as it was before but...life can never be the same again. What's done is done and we foolishly think there's always time for what we want to do until the day comes and it's too late. Things can never be the same.'

Anna sighed taking in his words, a feeling of sadness creeping into her. Sadness for him, for everything he had lost. Sadness for herself too. All this reminded her of her own family, of what she had left behind. In her case though, they had been the ones abandoning her.

'Tell me, what did you do that needed so much forgiveness?' she asked him, trying to understand the cause behind his feelings. What could he possible have done?

'Father travelled to London one day, to take me back home. Somehow he knew how miserable I was...he knocked at my door and I answered after another night of heavy drinking and we...we shared loud words and accusations. He told me I was disgracing myself, that all that I was was being washed away by drink and smoke and the lack of redemption...that my life was one mistake after another, that I left them knowing I would never be happy. I left for nothing.'

John took a deep breath, tears gathering at his eyes. Angry ones. 'He was a wise man, my father...he never met Vera but he knew...and he knew I didn't love her, not in the way I should. I told him it was his fault. I told him to leave and never come back, that I could fix things for myself...I was so wrong. I told him he was nothing but a fishermen, how could he know better than me? I don't know why I said those things, Anna… they slipped out of my drunken mouth with no meaning behind them, with only bitterness for life. We loved each other so much and I sent him away as if he was nothing but a beggar.'

She felt his breaking voice, the shaking of his body. Anger and regret, tears in his eyes. Her free hand came to caress his arm and she leaned into his shoulder as they walked, letting him know she was there, she believed every word he said.

'I'm sure he knew you didn't mean it. He saw your state, he knew you were not being yourself,' she told him a moment later, the cemetery coming in sight. Their feet were freezing from the melting snow beneath their shoes, the air was chill and their faces red. The humid sea breeze turning their hair into frozen waves.

'But I was, in that moment. I was being the man I became.'

'Don't say that.' She stopped them in their tracks to face him. Her eyes sure as she spoke. 'This is the man you became. This man right in front of me, the man I'm marrying tomorrow. This man begging for forgiveness and a second chance. A man who regrets all his past mistakes. Your father has forgiven you already, he did the moment you said all those things, and you will be sure of that when you have children of your own. That forgiveness is the first sentiment as soon as we are hurt...at least...that's what good parents do.'

'I don't have to have children of my own to know that...I mean, I have Johnny.' She smiled, his words making her love him even more. 'But...I need to tell him. It will never be the same, I will always carry this regret with me but, I can say I tried.'

'I didn't know you were religious,' she remarked, questioning.

'And I'm not. But I believe in souls, I think. You have to believe in something, don't you? I don't need God for that. My God is this…' he gestured to the landscape around them. '...and you. Everything I believed in. Everything that moves me, that I love. That's my religion.'

'You are spiritual, Mr Bates...one of the many, many things I love about you.' She brought one gloved hand to his cheek. 'You see more than anyone else. You will end being the wise man of this Isle, white beard, smoking pipe never too far from your lips, sitting on a rock on that cliff of ours and waiting for young folks to ask for your advice.'

He laughed at her words, the mood shifting now, one of her many powers over him. 'Maybe not all that but I am sure I will have plenty of advice to give to our children when they need it.'

'You and me both, Mr Bates.' She winked at him before pulling him back to walking again, his father's grave wouldn't be too far now.

'You and me both, Miss Smith.' He nodded with a smile. His heart racing in his chest and a nervous feeling running through his body again. A set of tombstones came in sight.

'Reade David Bates, isn't that so?' she asked him.

'Yes, that's right.'

'There!' she rushed her steps to it, brushing the watery snow away from the stone.

 _Reade David Bates,_

 _beloved husband and father,_

 _hard worker,_

 _trusted friend._

John breathed in when he saw it, his tears beginning to fill his eyes again.

'I'll give you a minute,' she said, running a hand along his arm before walking away.

'Thank you…' he replied, his eyes never leaving the inscription from his father's grave, as if somehow the longer he looked the less true it would be. How many years had it been...since they saw each other for the last time? Ten, twelve? 'I...when did it become so hard to speak to you?' he scoffed sadly. 'We used to be best friends and now...you are no more than a memory in my mind. A memory that keeps showing me the worst we shared. I don't know if you are listening or not, I don't know if souls wander or if they have a proper place to go...mother wouldn't approve of me saying this...but, there's some- I'm sorry. I miss you and I'm sorry, and I wish you were here.' He began to cry. 'I wish you could see how happy I am, how strong I've become...I wish you could have met Anna and Johnny, this family that it's already so mine. I'm going to get married tomorrow to the woman I truly love and you would be proud, I know it. You would love her.' He smiled at the thought, his father would indeed love her. She was the girl he always told him about. The one love, the one soulmate every man should find. 'I hope that, no matter where you are, we have your blessing. I know you would gladly give it to us if you were here. I am happy, Father. So happy, and I want to thank you for everything. I just hope I am forgiven.'

He finally sighed and breathed in slowly, letting the cold air fill his lungs. His tears drying before they could be shed. A peaceful feeling invading him, the breeze whispering at his ear that indeed he had been blessed. Maybe his blessing was Anna herself. How could she not be?

John had been forgiven, as Anna had said, as soon as the words had left his mouth all those years ago. But, although he felt lighter now, his regret still had its grip on him. His absolution would only come on an Autumn morning, while rain poured outside. He would whispered his father's name into the dim early light and he would know then that a father always forgives.

They didn't take too long to return home after that. The night was washing the sunlight away, their bones freezing and a hurry for the next day to come too difficult to explain. It would be the last time they would walk on this path as nothing but sweethearts with crescent dreams, and for that they walked in silence, a smile on their faces and memories of their first meeting playing in their minds. This land that had brought them together would keep them together, and tomorrow it would only be the beginning of their life as one.

 **xxxx**

'Thank you so much Mrs Bates,' Anna said as the older woman placed the crown of small white flowers atop his head. Again, the morning was bright and sunny, blessing this happy day of theirs.

'Ernest just brought them here. Mrs Grant asked him to when he was there for mail. They are still small, it's no time for flowers, but she managed to find these sleeping in her pots. She's very good at crowns,' Mrs Bates told her.

'I will have to thank her properly for this,' Anna smiled.

'Speaking of Mrs Grant…' the older woman began, pinning the last side of the crown into Anna's hair, 'I will be sleeping at her house tonight. And Johnny at Tim's, everything's settled. You don't have to worry about it.'

'You don't have-'

'Ah! Sure I do. I want you to be comfortable, knowing that...well, no one is here...it's your wedding night so you should be all by yourselves, and that's the end of it. It's only for tonight, I will be back the next morning and you won't get rid of me before I'm cold under my grave.'

Anna laughed, shaking her head lovingly. 'Does Johnny know?'

'He knows and he can't wait. You know how children like sleep overs.'

'And what about Mr Bates?'

'Oh, you can be the one telling him that.' Mrs Bates winked, 'He's helping Johnny getting dressed in his room, by the way. John was all packed and ready when I woke up, sitting on his bed like a chump. I asked him what he was doing and he said he was just waiting…' she rolled her eyes.

'I'm nervous too…I feel like I have butterflies in my belly.'

'We all do in our wedding day, my dear. And when we are marrying the one we truly love those butterflies will last forever. We just get used to them after a time. You haven't seen each other since last night, have you?'

'No. We behaved, Mrs Bates, don't worry,' Anna said.

'Good, now, do you need my help for the dress?'

'No, thank you. I will dress myself.'

'All right, then. You take your time, the ferry won't be for another hour and a half. Call me if you need me.'

'You are too good to me, Mrs Bates.' Anna rose from her chair and walked toward the older woman, taking her hands in her own. 'I will be forever grateful to you.'

'Nonsense. You came here only to bring us happiness, my dear. Now, let me go, I want to fix something for us to eat before leaving, and maybe a small pie for you two to eat later tonight.' Mrs Bates kissed Anna's knuckles and left the room. In all honesty the food had been an excuse. She was herself as excited as the bride and groom. Her heart had been racing since the day John told her he had asked Anna to marry him.

Anna took the dress from her wardrobe then, after closing the door of her room, and placed it on top of her bed, together with her stockings and a coat she would have to wear to protect herself from the cold. John's clothes mixed with hers making her smile. They would be sleeping there tonight, tomorrow he would dress himself together with her.

Her hair was already done, so she powered her face, just a little bit, and added some of her rosy blush to her cheeks, and a soft pink lipstick. Next, she undressed from her nightclothes, and from one of her drawers she took the underclothes she had bought. A white sheer top, loose and silky like. She put on the knickers that completed the piece, with garters and a satiny, half petticoat.

Everything was rather daring and she only hoped John wouldn't think she had tried to hard...but something inside told her he would love it. She felt good wearing this, to be able to show this side of her to him. A side she was just discovering herself...that one night six years ago...it had been so different, so...she shook her head. Today it was hers and John's, for the rest of their life. There was no space for other memories, especially bad ones.

The pearl necklace was next and she walked to the long mirror on the door of her wardrobe to look at herself. This would be how she would be presented to him on their wedding night. Everyone away, just the two of them in this house, her sheer garments and a fierce desire. The ring he had given her burned on her finger now and she looked at it. It would soon have a companion for life. She took a deep breath before looking over at the dress she would wear and she only hoped this feeling would never go away. More than love, completeness. More than anything else, absolute happiness.

When she walked out of the room he was there waiting for her, a cheeky smile on his face and longing in his eyes. He looked at her from head to toe, taking her all in, imagining already calling her his wife. They didn't share a word, silence had always been a way of communication to them, choosing instead holding hands as they descended the stairs, and soon enough they were out of the door and driving to the Bay, the ferry already waiting when they arrived there. It was almost time.

 **xxxx**

They walked arm in arm, as Johnny and Mrs Bates followed, their expression showing the joy they felt. People passing by knowing exactly what was about to happen; it was so hard to hide. John stopped them at a flower shop, and picked a bouquet of white flowers for Anna. ' _To match that beautiful crown and the pearls.'_ Little did he know it matched also what she wore beneath her blue wedding dress. The shawl Mrs Bates had offered her for Christmas wrapped around her neck over her coat, and a teary smile gracing her features. She took the bouquet in her hands, kissing his cheek as she did so, and soon they were at the registry entrance. Racing hearts and sweaty hands and she carefully broke one of the delicate flowers to hook it on his jacket pocket. He smiled at her gesture, touching the flower. A true bride and groom now.

'Here lad,' he then turned to the Johnny, handing him a small black box. 'You will be the bearer of our wedding rings. When the registrar asks for them you will have to give it to us. Are you brave enough for such mighty task? There's no wedding without this.'

'I am, Mr Bates!' the boy puffed his chest, taking the box and putting it in the pocket of his coat.

John tapped the boy's shoulder, smiling. 'I think you might start calling me John...or dad?'

Johnny looked up to his mother, his eyes wide and his expression almost a shocked one. As for Anna, it had been so hard to hold back her tears, but for everyone's sake she tried her best.

'Let's go now, darling,' she told her son. 'Before we are late.'

The boy nodded grinning, rushing inside with Mrs Bates. Bride and groom followed. The registrar welcomed them, and soon their vows were made.

The ceremony didn't take too long. Johnny had made a brilliant job as the keeper of the rings, and not an half of hour later they were outside again. The day still bright and clear, nice for a walk around the city.

'I can now say I have the most handsome husband of all.' Anna said proudly in a low voice as Mrs Bates and Johnny walked ahead of them. The boy spotting a small park nearby.

'You don't know many men, do you?' he joked and she rolled her eyes.

'That tie does match your eyes. I was right.'

'And that dress suits you better than any other dress you've ever worn. I was surprised when I saw you wearing blue...pleasantly surprised.'

'I love you, you know. And I'm so happy,' she confessed, leaning into his body, hand in hand, wedding rings displaying proudly.

'And I love you more, Anna,' he whispered, kissing the top of her head. She smelled of flowers and of him. She was his for good and proper.

'Oh look, it will be hard to tell him to leave now.' Anna furrowed her brow as they approached the park, watching as her son ran to the swings.

'Let the boy have fun, we will wait. It's still early for lunch.' John said. His mother sitting on a bench. 'Let's sit down and enjoy this day, hm?'

'Yes, if you don't mind.'

'How could I mind watching as he plays,' he chuckled, and Anna brought the bouquet to her nose and smiled.

'It meant a lot to him, and to me, what you said...that he could call you John or dad. You have no idea.'

He faced her then, his eyes looking deep into her soul. 'I feel as if he is my son. I will be very honoured the day he calls me his father...if it ever comes.'

'Oh, knowing how much he loves you, he will, soon enough,' she said, rising on her tiptoes to place a quick kiss on his lips. He cocked his brow at her. 'A promise of what is to come,' she teased.

'You can't make such a promise in public like that, Mrs Bates. It's most unfair.'

She giggled at his words. The sound of her married name making her heart tight in her chest. 'I never said I played fair, Mr Bates.'

'We shall see…we shall see.'

 **xxxx**

The sun was setting when they arrived home. The days were shorter at this time of the year. Clouds now gathered in the sky as yet another storm seemed to brew on the horizon.

John parked the car in the garage and Mrs Bates and Johnny didn't lose any time to getting out and walking away, but it wasn't until when they didn't stop at the house that he thought something was wrong.

'Where are they going? Mother?!' John called, arm in arm with Anna, looking back to see the other two heading down the road. He looked at his bride questioningly.

'Oh!' Anna flashed her lashes, as if she had completely forgotten about the matter. That hadn't been the case. 'They are sleeping away tonight. Mrs Bates at Mrs Grant's and Johnny at Tim's.'

He looked at her rather amazed. 'Well, this was another pleasant surprise, I must say.'

'She wanted us to have our first night without them in the house…'

'Mother is a wise woman, indeed. Well…' he pulled her by the hand. 'No time to lose then.'

John headed for the house and opened the door. Then he turned to pick her up, her hands came immediately around his neck as he cradled her against his chest.

'John…your-'

'Sshhh. I'm as fit as a bull,' he stated, kissing her temple.

'I'm glad to know!' Anna giggled, holding him tight as he stepped into the house, kicking the door close once they were inside.

'You are not climbing those stairs with me!' she warned him, shooting him a look.

He lifted his brow at her. 'Yeah...I don't want to drop you and ruin our wedding night.' He kissed her slowly before speaking again. 'We should build a fire first, it's freezing here.'

'Good idea,' she replied.

With that, he walked to the front room, tossing her gently on the sofa and she waited there while he set up the fire as quickly as he could. His mind was wandering wild already. Thinking of what was to come. Hers did just the same.

'Nice,' John whispered, walking to the sofa to join her. The warmth coming from the fireplace already making itself known.

He sat down and she welcomed him in her arms. Her kiss left him breathless. Her hands possessive were against him, and for a moment he wondered if this was all a dream. He answered her back just the same, when sense returned to him. Before they realised it, their coats, his jacket and her shawl were already piled on the floor.

'Let me take this…' he said, taking the crown of small flowers from her head and placing it carefully on top of the side table. 'You know…' he continued, his hands now at the buttons of her dress. 'I've always imagined us like this. Maybe it wasn't so proper of me but-.'

She interrupted him, her fingertips caressing his soft lips. 'You love me...there's nothing improper about that. I've longed for this as much as you did.'

John smiled at her words, his eyes watery. 'I _love_ you,' he declared, this feeling of utter fulfillment soaked into his body and soul, making him feel so young...so contented.

His fingers undid her buttons, and soon he could see most of her cleavage and the white fabric beneath her dress. The look of wonderful curiosity in his eyes made her rise from her seat, making it slide down her body as John watched. He swallowed hard with her every movement, his breathing heavy, his palms on his knees trembling in need of touching. Her sheer underwear coming into sight, as she stepped out of her dress, and he swore his heart had stopped beating as soon as she presented herself to him. So willingly, so beautifully. She smiled softly at him.

'I bought this especially for today,' she told him, a trace of shyness playing in her features.

'It's the most beautiful thing,' he said slowly, as his hands came to her sides, holding her there as she stepped forward between his legs. He eyed her hungrily, his eyes roaming her body. Her breasts visible. Her nipples hardening against the thin, see-through fabric. Control was now impossible. She was his wife. Everything was right.

He pulled her to him, placing a kiss on her stomach, his hands exploring her body, her sighs beginning to be heard. She helped him with the hooks of her stockings as he took in every inch of her legs, kissing wherever he could reach.

'John…' Anna moaned when his lips kissed over her knickers, the heat of her skin making his own desire to grow. The bulge in his trousers making her body respond.

John rose from the sofa then, almost helpless, his mouth taking her own. Their kiss fervent and passionate. Her began hands undoing the buttons of his shirt and removing his tie.

'Oh, Anna...you are beautiful,' he told her, sighing as he cupped her small breasts, fitting so perfectly in his palms. As perfectly as he had imagined so many times. Maybe even more so. It wasn't long before the need to see her completely naked began to shout in his mind, and with ease, he helped her out of her undergarments.

Anna bit her lower lip as he stared at her, smiling as he did so, his hands coming back to her breasts. He couldn't stop touching her. Every minute without feeling her skin was now torture.

'Mr Bates...your turn.' She shot him a look and he nodded chuckling, discharging the remainder of his clothing, his eyes never leaving her.

Timidly, she looked down at his body, her cheeks hot at the sight. His need for her pulsing hard against the warm air. She wanted him more than ever, with her every strength, with her every breath, for all the nights she had dreamed about him, for all the days she had longed for his touch. Without a second thought she reached for him, running her hands over his chest, taking in the feeling of his hairs between her fingertips. Her memory took her back to their night in the ocean, when freezing and wet they met each, other not so innocently, for the first time. This time he was hot, boiling, and the shiver she felt was far from cold.

They admired each other for a moment, taking in the other's every inch in the dim firelight. How long had they waited for this, maybe even before they knew it? They had been destined to be together, in this most intimate of ways. The day dark outside; night had fallen, the wind blew strong against the rooftop but in here it was just them.

John touched her cheek, running his thumb along her lips, watching as she closed her eyes at the sensation. She was beautiful indeed, perfect. Pale skinned and silken-like, petite, slim. He was tall and broad and rough, his skin soft and his hands gentle. He pulled her to him, and they clashed together in a fiery kiss.

They found each other on the floor, the carpet as their bed, the fire as their sheet, their hands and mouths as one. Anna felt him shift from atop of her, travelling down her body in a path of wet kisses. She moaned in anticipation. His lips pressed against her thigh, her name muttered over and over again.

He tasted her until she came undone. Lapping at her slowly until she came fell from that wonderful precipice. His fingers teasing before he held her tight against his chest. Supportive, loving, waiting for her sobriety, giving her time so he could start all over again. His desire pulsing right where she needed it the most now, as he placed his body between her legs, but before he could join them, she pushed at his shoulders, persuading him to turn over, to lay down. A wonderful smile was glowing on her face. John obeyed willingly, laying on his back and she straddled him, her hand grasping at his hot length. He was painfully hard, she could tell, his moans and expressions proved just that. Her ministrations were overwhelming for both. He was so big in her hand, throbbing with her every touch, there was nothing he could do...but whisper her name.

'Anna…' John pleaded, pulling her down to him. The need to kiss her too strong. He felt her shift and breathed in, and before he could speak again, she took him slowly, sliding down onto him until he was buried deep within her. One of his hands at her hair and the other squeezing her buttock.

Rain began to pour outside as they moved together. Her heat all around him, trapping him tight, and she rode him faster as he brought his hands to her breasts. The fire casting their shadows against the walls. Their moans travelling through the house, glad they could be shared without any holding back. Tonight was theirs, and theirs only, as it should be.

All those months of suppressing their desire making this first time end rather quickly, but nevertheless it couldn't have been more perfect. Itb was the coming together of all they had dreamed and prayed for. The beginning of a life filled with joy and love. They remained on the carpet after their end, the bliss of the moment still present. Breathing coming back to normal, her head on his chest listening to his racing heart. He held her tight, taking in the smell of her hair. If possible he loved her more now, after loving her as completely as he could.

'Well, Mrs Bates...you had your way with me,' he told her playfully and felt her giggle into his chest.

'I know that I am now what I was meant to be...and I couldn't be more happy,' she whispered, her fingers playing with his soft hairs.

'I couldn't either,' he sighed, pleased with himself. 'And I couldn't love you more if I tried.'

'We should go upstairs to our room. We can't risk falling asleep here and your mother coming in the morning to see us like this on her carpet!' Anna laughed.

'Sleep? I don't intend on letting you sleep tonight,' he chuckled, kissing the crown on her head. 'I've waited enough for this, I'll be taking all the advantage that I can.'

'Cheeky devil!' She rose on her elbow to face him with a mischievous smile. 'What if I don't let you…?' her hand drawing small circles in the hollow of his neck.

'Oh trust me, you'll want to let me.' He pulled her to him and kissed her lips, but before he could deepen the kiss she pushed him down and stood up, took her clothes and ran for the stairs, laughing heartily as she did so.

'Only if you can catch me!'

John shook his head smiling. stood up and grabbed his clothes. When he walked into the bedroom she was under the sheets waiting for him, grinning seductively. He joined her without losing any time and it wasn't until dawn was nearly breaking that they finally fell asleep in the peaceful embrace of each other's arms. No dreams were needed now, they had just come true.

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 ** _Next Chapter:_** _A letter and a good business._

 ** _Thank you for reading! :)_**


	14. Before The Change Of Tides

_**A/N:** Good evening everyone! Here I am again, with the shortest chapter of this story, although it took me a million years to write. Don't ask. I don't even know myself. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! Short is good too :) Thank you all so much for your reviews, follows and faves. They mean so much to me :D _

_Hope you all have a great weekend xXx_

 _ **Disclaimer:** Same as chapter 1-13. _

* * *

**\- Before The Change Of Tides -**

The night had promised rain and thunderstorms, together with the prospect of a fulfilled life for both, and when morning came, it didn't disappoint.

The early sounds of the storm against the window and his mother's hustle around the kitchen woke John up, mixed with the feeling of her hair sprawled all over his pillow, some golden strands making his nose itch and her back pressed onto his chest. He smiled, his eyes still shut. The smell of her in bed, smelling of nothing but them, was intoxicating, and his lips didn't take long to find the hot skin of her neck.

Anna contested with a low grumble. Sleep still making her oblivious of the source of the disturbance, and he couldn't help but chuckle before insisting on another kiss, this time a loud one, followed by a tickle at her side. She grumbled again.

'Good morning, Mrs Bates.' he whispered in her ear, his hand travelling down to her hip.

'John…' she sighed, and he felt her smile as she turned to face him. Her eyes opened, bright and sleepy, a wonderful look on her face.

'Did you sleep well?' he asked, taking one of her golden strands away from her face.

'Better than ever,' she replied before a yawn escaped from her. 'And you?'

'Well...the little I slept was good enough...not my favourite part of the whole night though.'

'Cheeky…' she giggled, burying her face in the crook of his neck. His arms came immediately around her, bringing them as close as possible. Their still naked bodies warm under the sheets, their legs finding their way together, as if sleeping like this was a habit of many, many years.

'I just found out...I love you the most in the morning,' he told her, her hair once again against his nose. 'When it's just the two of us and the memories of the night before. When you smell of love and passion. Of us.'

'Goodness,' her voice was muffled on his neck. 'I married the sweetest of poets.'

'You awake the need of expression in me. I know now why poets write about love the most. There's nothing better to write about.' He pressed a kiss on the crown of her head.

'I am just so lucky, you know?' Anna said, looking up at him, one of her hands coming to cup his cheek.

'Not luckier than I am.'

They kissed softly, their hands finding each other's body again. The bed too comfortable, the day a lazy one. Then the metal sound of pans came to their ears.

'Is your mother here?' she asked him.

'Yes… I heard plates and pans when I woke up. I reckon she's making us breakfast. You know how she likes to feed us.'

'She'll say we need to eat after…' Anna bit her lower lip. 'Well.'

'She will say that, indeed. She'll probably ask you if I performed well enough or if she needs to talk me to it.' John laughed at his own words and was answered back with a smack on his arm.

'John! Stop it!' she rolled her eyes, trying to suppress her own laugh.

'Should we get up?' he wondered, running his hand through her hair. The early light of this cloudy morning casting a colourless spell across the room. Her skin was paler than the night before, the fire had made her look like an ember, burning with passion and in all her glory, electric almost. Now she laid here with him in their bed, and she was sleepy and calmed and blissful, her eyes grey and gentle. She had many ways of showing herself to him, he had noticed. A friend, a confident, a wife and a lover...his strength. He loved all her versions in equal measure, in a whole she was everything that completed him.

'Maybe…' he felt her playing with the hairs on his chest, the feeling sending shivers down his spine. He remembered how she had touched him just a few hours ago. Her dainty hands so bold and wonderful, doing exactly what he needed them to do. 'We could make some morning memories before going down. It's still early. She won't be waiting for us just yet,' she suggested, her eyes dancing fiery with his own.

'She'll understand if we sleep in…' John agreed, speaking against her lips, before stealing another kiss from her. His body already beginning to respond, as he felt hers doing exactly the same.

'Exactly.'

She moaned as he grasped her breasts, his mouth on her neck and his legs finding their way between her own. The next hour was spent as the night before, moving together and loving each other in the most intimate of ways, their noises muffled by skin and sheets, now that they weren't alone anymore.

'There you are!' Mrs Bates announced as they walked into the kitchen later that morning. Hand in hand and dreamy smiles, a flushed colour on their cheeks as they said their good mornings to the older woman. The table set with toast, sausages and steamy beans, a big pot of tea and John's coffee. 'I'm sure you are both starving! And I see you ate the pie I made for you yesterday.'

'Yes.' Anna nodded smiling, as they both sat at the table. 'It was delicious.'

'I'll make a bigger one tomorrow for dinner. So…' Mrs Bates walked to the counter to wash her hands, her tone a curious one. 'Did you have a good night?'

John and Anna shared a momentary glance, their colour turning red now.

'It was lovely,' he replied to his mother, his eyes never leaving his wife.

'I'm sure it was…' Mrs Bates commented as she joined them for breakfast.

'Mother!' John shook his head, heat creeping on his ears, while Anna couldn't help but giggle at his awkwardness.

'Come on now, eat,' the older woman commanded then, shooting a knowing look at Anna. 'Do you have plans for today, or will you go back to bed?'

'Unfortunately I have work to do. I have to prepare the classes for next week.' Anna replied, filling her plate.

'No rest for the wicked, that's the truth. And you, John?'

'I'm going to Jeph's, we need to talk about the boats, and Mr Helmer is coming on the tenth to check things out. He wants to see the fleet and who's who, ask some questions about the amount of fish they catch and all that...if everything goes well we will be signing a contract with him.'

'That's wonderful!' his mother exclaimed.

'I am sure he'll like what you have to tell him. I've seen the boats and they are all ship shape,' Anna said, daring a gentle caress on his thigh, and he couldn't help but take a deep breath as he looked over at her. Her eyes were faithful and strong, telling him he should believe everything would work out the way he had imagined.

'The garage is all clean too.' John continued. 'I just want to fix the table that's there and I may turn it into my office for the fishing business, so I don't crowd our room with papers and all that. I think it will be good to have it outside the house, and I can see the men on the sea from there too. If they want to talk to me they don't need to come in the house.'

'That's a good idea!' Mrs Bates said.

'And I'll take the car out…' he shot Anna a look. 'And tomorrow you are driving yourself to school.'

'Alone?' she asked him widening her eyes.

'Not alone, no, I'll come along but you need to drive or you'll forget how it's done.'

'But what if it's raining too much?' she pursed her lips.

'If it's raining too much I'll drive but if it's raining like today you will,' he told her with a light tone. 'Come on, you are very good at it!'

'I suppose she likes to have a chauffeur more than being _the_ chauffeur,' Mrs Bates chuckled.

'That's exactly it!' Anna remarked.

'Oh! I see...' John smiled facing her. Her expression a pleading one. He rolled his eyes lovingly, before giving in with a nod. 'Do you want me to bring Johnny home?'

'Tim's house's a bit far from Jeph's,' she wrinkled her nose, unsure.

'Not too far, I'll probably take the car if it keeps raining,' he explained.

'Oh, if that's the case, yes. I already miss him.' Anna smiled to herself.

'This house is not the same without the little man around…' Mrs Bates sighed. 'I may bake the chocolate cake he loves...yes, that's exactly what I will do!'

 **xxxx**

'Look, look! I made you and mummy a drawing!' Johnny jumped up and down, with the two sheets of paper in his hands. It was late in the afternoon, the day already darkening, rain pouring. John had just arrived at Tim's house after a long conversation with Jeph, and was now waiting for Mr Lewis to fetch the boy's coat and beanie.

'Did you? How nice, let me see.' John took the papers, giving the boy's masterpieces a good look.

'Here,' Johnny pointed out at the letters. 'It says 'My daddy, Mr Bates.' I didn't draw your stick 'cause it was only temporary... Mummy's one says 'My mummy, Anna Bates.' 'cause she's Bates now, isn't she?'

John nodded a bit teary, a big smile spread across his face. The boy beamed with excitement. 'Indeed, she is. You're an artist, Johnny. Thank you.'

'Oh, he's been going about you ever since he arrived yesterday.' Tim's mother smiled down at the boy, handing John his clothes. 'Bless him.' She was slim and tall comparing with the other women of this Isle, and her hair was dark as coal and neatly done in a bun, contrasting dramatically with the paleness of her skin. She was young too, not more than thirty, with two younger children besides Tim.

'Thank you for having him, Mrs Lewis.' John said, running a hand through the boy's hair. 'We must go now, here, let me help you.' He kneeled down then, helping Johnny into his coat. The weather outside growing wilder by the minute. 'Thank Mrs Lewis, Johnny, for having you for the night.'

'Thank you, Mrs Lewis.' Johnny did as told, a proud look on his face and his chest puffed as John did all his buttons.

'You are welcome, Johnny,' the woman responded before facing John. 'You tell Miss...Oh! I mean, your wife that he behaved very well, Mr Bates.'

'I will, Mrs Lewis, have a good day.'

'Good day to you too.'

They waved and left. The walk to the car would have to be done as fast as they could, but when Johnny looked back to his friend's house, he saw Tim peeking through the window. His face pressed against the glass.

'Tim!' Johnny called, the rain was pouring stronger now, the boy had to yell. 'I'm going home with my dad in his car! Are you seeing it?!'

Tim nodded at Johnny, a trace of jealousy growing inside of him. 'Tim's dad doesn't have a car.' The boy lifted his brow, explaining John the need to share such information.

'I see…' John grinned at the boy's sense of pride. 'Come on, run, run, run...your mother won't like to see you all wet. Careful with your drawings.'

They ran to the car as fast as they could, the rain damping their clothes.

'All right, let's go home, shall we? Did you have fun at Tim's?' John asked as he turned the motor on.

'I did!'

'I'm sure you missed your mother though? Didn't you?'

'Yes,' Johnny replied.

'Maybe you should tell her that when you see her. She will like to hear it, hm?'

The boy nodded decisively, looking over at John who was now focused on the road before them. Many years from now he would remember this drive home as vividly as if he was there again. The smell of the wet dirt, the humidity of the air inside the car, John's cologne...the way the man held the wheel with practice and the way his eyes crinkled every time he smiled over at him. The very first time they shared a car as father and son. The first time Johnny felt a boy like all the others.

 **xxxx**

'I thought I was the writer!' John said in her ear later that night. His low voice making her jump, one hand immediately up over her heart.

'You gave me a fright!' Anna told him. 'I didn't hear you coming into the room.'

A candle burned low on the desk, together with the dim light from the nightstand lamp. Outside the sea was furious, the waves clashed against the shore, the rain hit hard on the window glass. It was cold too, freezing almost, it wouldn't take long before the droplets turned into snow.

'That's what happens when you leave the door wide open,' John insisted, pressing a soft kiss on her neck as he leaned over the chair she was sitting on.

'I have nothing to hide, Mr Bates,' she replied smiling, looking down at the paper before her.

'What are you writing, a letter?' he asked.

'I'm writing to my mother. I want her to know I got married.'

'Oh...I thought you didn't-'

'Yes, we don't but…' she took a deep breath. 'I'm sending her this as Anna Bates now. I want her to know that. She might, though. I wrote my brother a week ago telling him I was getting married.'

John nodded. 'I hope she answers, and that she'll be happy for you.'

'I don't care if she does or not, I just want her to know from me. She called me bad names for what I did. She said no one would want me, no man would put up with what I did and with my son...I want her to know she's wrong. That against the odds I found the perfect man.'

He heard a trace of anger in her voice and that made his heart tight on his chest. 'I'm not sure I'm perfect but I assure you, we will be very, very happy. And I'm glad I have to put up with you and Johnny. You can tell your mother that, if you want.'

Anna grinned. 'I did.' She folded the paper and placed it inside the envelope before turning in her chair to face him. 'And you already make me very, very happy.'

'Come here,' he said, stretching his hand out for her to take. When she rose he pulled her to him, kissing her deeply as he did so, wrapping his arms around her middle as she brought her hands up to his neck. 'I don't want to see you sad ever again...not even about your mother.'

'I won't be,' she replied, running her hands through the back of his head. 'Well...I have to run Johnny a bath and put him to bed, it's late.'

'Do that, I'll wait for you.' John kissed the crown of her head before she left the room, and he took her chair as she closed the door behind her, knowing too well he liked the comfort of privacy. His typewriter was there ready to be used, and a rush of inspiration ran through him, almost like a fresh breeze in a hot summer day. In the half hour that followed he would write the first paragraph of his next book. A story about second chances and love. This time, his character would have his name. An autobiography written in third person. The book that would make him famous.

 **xxxx**

'Honestly, I thought I was coming here to see a fleet of small fishing boats and old dying men, but I am quite impressed!' Mr Helmer eyed the fishermen as they sailed to open sea, a long day of work ahead of them. Jeph had stayed ashore with John this time.

'We are all hardworking men, Mr Helmer. Born and raised on this sea,' he remarked to the businessman, a cigarette dancing on his lips, as usual.

'Sixteen boats in total, not very big but in a good day they bring home about two hundred kilos of fish. These waters are very fertile, fish are never in short supply.' John said.

'That's true. This Isle was famous in its time. I'm just surprised it doesn't profit from it anymore. I've been told about its glorious times.' Mr Helmer looked around, taking in the landscape.

'And there are other fishermen around in other areas,' John continued. 'I intend on talking to them in the future, to join forces. Buy bigger boats when the business grows.'

'Well, I could make you an offer for that, Mr Bates. If you sign the contract I want you to, I can give you economic freedom to hire more men and in the future one or two bigger boats. I bought a house on the Bay a week ago, to get the fish in there before sending them to the mainland. It will arrive in the factory already cleaned and ready to can or to sell fresh in the market. The fish will have to be at the Bay at night after it's caught so we can send it straight away. In this business fresh means it was swimming in the sea only a few hours ago, not days…' Mr Helmer cocked his brow. 'And it's also important the fish are in good condition to can. I only work with first class products, if you know what I mean.'

'But of course! We wouldn't have it any other way, Mr Helmer,' John assured the businessman.

'In this contract I offer you partnership on my business as well as the secretary of the services here on the Isle. I can't be here as much as I should, and I trust you to be my eyes and ears while I'm away, meaning you will have to be in charge of the fish counts and paperwork.'

'I am astonished with that offer, Mr Helmer.' John eyed the man with a surprised look on his face. He didn't know what else to say.

'Me too,' Mr Helmer nodded thoughtfully. 'I'm not a man who trusts another very easily but when you made your proposal to me I knew I was dealing with a man of his word. Read the contract first, sign it then.' He handed John the papers.

'I just want you to know that my friend Mr Kenneth is also my partner in this,' John told him, tapping his friend's shoulder. 'I wouldn't be doing this without him.'

'Well, it's up to you to choose your right hand, Mr Bates. I don't oppose to that, if you think there's no one better for the task.'

'There isn't, Mr Helmer. There isn't.' John smiled at the two men, taking the contract in his hands. Soon the businessman man was gone, leaving him and Jeph alone, giving them four days to sign it.

'John, I have no money to invest in this,' Jeph warned John was they walked along the shore. The boats in the distance now, the night falling sure over the horizon.

'Don't be silly, Jeph! Your investment is your knowledge. I don't know a lick about fish. I don't even know how to see if it's fresh.' John chuckled. 'I'll take care of the paperwork and you will see to the men. Or do you think I'm putting myself on a boat and sailing through rain and wave?'

'Indeed you won't. You never liked it. Remember when you threw up all your dinner that one time?' Jeph laughed. 'I thank you, my friend.'

'No need for that, Jeph. Let's read this together, shall we? And then we can give the news to the others.'

'Here's to a good business!' His old friend tapped his shoulder as violently as always, making John lose his balance for a second.

'To a good business!' John said back, shaking his head at Jeph's ways.

Life was good now. Perfect even. There was not one thing he would change about it. And that's exactly when the tide changes. When you least expect, when you least want to. When you think nothing can go wrong...only you find out the wrong was to think like so.

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 _ **Next Chapter:** Even in death there's life. _

_**Thank you so much for reading! :)**_


	15. Mourning

_**A/N:** Good evening everyone! I see that you are all worried about Mama Bates, and what can I say about that? Read the chapter and find out... ;) I hope you enjoy it, even though it is a sad one. _

_Wish you all a grand weekend, and thank you for your reviews!_

 ** _Btw, there will be a little something at the end for you to participate in. Don't miss it! But read the chapter first, don't you cheat on me! :P_**

 _ **Disclaimer:** Same as chapter 1-14. _

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**\- Mourning -**

A low hum travelled across the cottage's walls. Sweet and happy, adsorbed in contented thoughts and memories of devoted nights. In the parlour the fire flickered and the faithful dog snored softly. Outside the rain poured. It was almost like living under a spell made of a silence of sounds. Soothing sounds that make one feel at peace, as if the whole world was pure and good for once, as if everything had been gathered to bless them at this very moment.

'When is the baby coming?' Johnny asked him as they both sat on the floor across the fireplace. The boy's tin soldiers all standing in attention. John helping him reunite them in groups of six.

'Well...soon. One doesn't really know, you see. Sometimes it takes a few hours, other times a day or two. It depends,' he explained, around thirty more tin soldiers to go.

'And is Mrs Bates staying there until the baby is born?' Anna's voice came to their ears. The happy humming was over for now. A basket of clothes in her arms.

'Eavesdropping I see,' John chuckled, his eyes never leaving the small toys. His hands too big for them, even clumsy sometimes, and the last thing he wanted now was to ruin their troops march. 'She'll be there, all right. She helped delivering a baby once and now she thinks she's a proper midwife.'

Anna shook her head smiling. 'She's there for moral support. Mrs Kent called her after all, didn't she?'

'That's because Mrs Kent was the one having her baby delivered by my mother. She's the midwife so when her time came mother was the nearest one to call.' John replied.

'Well, if she feels confident with her there, let them be. I'm sure she'll spend her time praying more than doing anything else,' Anna said and he nodded, sure that her words were more than true. 'Maybe that's why Mrs Kent called her,' she continued. 'She won't have the time to pray and deliver at the same time.'

'Not that it makes much difference…' John remarked, eyeing the tin soldiers. Johnny was doing a good job lining them up as the noble military forces they were.

'It does to them. It makes them feel better about it.' Anna lifted her brow at her husband and for that he looked up at her with a grin playing on his lips. 'Anyway, more clothes to wash! It's like living with a whole army.'

'Do you need help?' John asked her.

'You help by distracting him, believe me. But you could make tea, not yet though, finish your lineups first…' she said, staring at the sight before her. The basket in her arms beginning to weigh heavy and a dreamy smile gracing her features. 'It does suit you.'

'Lineups?' her husband looked up at her again.

'Children.'

John watched as she left the parlour. Her words echoing in his mind. He looked at Johnny then, who was just finishing with the last three soldiers, his tongue poking from between the new gap he had on his gum.

'It's war time now!' the boy cheered a moment after. Their army the pride of their eyes. The tin soldiers standing in attention and no trace of fear in their human like faces.

'And who's the enemy?' John asked.

'Macbeth Isle, where all the baddies hide after doing all sort of killing,' Johnny answered, his voice filled with conviction.

'But Macbeth Isle is peaceful now.' John eyed the sleeping dog. 'Should we dare to provoke it? Maybe if we just wait-'

'No time for waiting! We will show them no mercy!' Johnny said, his eyes wide before turning serious. 'Just like when he chewed on my shoes without even asking.'

John laughed. 'All right then. Show him no mercy, son.'

The soldiers began a long journey then. One by one, they moved them across the floor, until the poor dog was surrounded. There was no way out of this. It was either death or surrender. The sturdy black and golden Isle, snoring in fear, had to choose, and when the boy asked what was to be of its fate, an unpredictable earthquake happened. The dog turned on his back ready for a belly rub, and all the soldiers perished just so. The conquest would have to happen another time.

 **xxxx**

'Anna, love?' John called for the second time. The tea leaves resting in the pot and Johnny sitting at the table, waiting for the bread to toast. 'If it starts smelling burnt call me,' he told the boy before walking in the adjoined laundry room.

'Hello there,' Anna said as she saw him coming from behind a curtain of drying underwear.

'Hello you, tea's ready. I'm toasting some bread…Oh!' the garments she had worn on their wedding night came to his eyes. 'I hope this means you will be wearing this again soon?' He touched the damp thin fabric, remembering that first night of theirs almost one month ago.

'Sometimes you are too cheeky, Mr Bates.' Anna shot him a teasing look, standing from the floor where she had been gathering all the linen. 'And yes, if you want me to.'

''Course I want you to.' John walked to her, resting his hands at her waist. 'If I had my way you would wear nothing but beautiful undergarments all day,' he whispered in her ear pulling her close to him, before kissing the warm skin her found there. Her hair was loose today and smelling of country flowers and he buried his nose in the crook of her neck.

'John.' Anna rolled her eyes lovingly, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

'Can't a husband dream?' His hand travelled to the small of her back as he kissed her lips. The kiss slow and passionate, the way he knew it made her weak and aching for him. Anna's muffled moan made him shiver. Her hands pressed against his chest and gripping at his shirt.

'It's smells burnt!' the boy shouted from the kitchen and they immediately broke apart.

'Oh goodness, the bread!' John brought one hand to his head as he walked away and Anna couldn't help but chuckle at him.

'You are too easily distracted.' she said following him.

'You are the one to blame, my darling,' he replied.

Anna sat down next to her son as John poured the steamy tea into their mugs and handed each a plate with a buttery slice of toast. Luckily the damage hadn't been too bad, and he had been able to scrape off the small burnt ends.

'What's the matter, darling?' he asked her while they ate. Her eyes distant and thoughtful.

'I'm worried…' she confessed. 'I know these things take time but...it started last night.'

'Mrs Kenneth has had four children already, everything's going to be all right.' John tried to alleviate her worries.

'That doesn't really matter, how many children she had.'

'Well, yes but, I meant that...she's good at it.'

Anna chuckled. 'That's exactly why I'm worried. She's good at it, it shouldn't take so long, I don't know…'

'Did Johnny here made you suffer for a long time?' John asked, winking at the boy.

'Not really,' Anna smiled, running her hand through her son's hair. 'He was very small when he was born. He came a bit early, 'was in a hurry to see the world, I suppose.' Johnny grinned broadly at his mother and she gently pinched his nose. 'It started at four in the morning and around ten he was already in my arms.'

'He's an easy lad,' John concluded.

'Did you have to crack my egg, mummy?' the boy's question made the two adults turn serious, frowning in confusion. 'Tim saw his dad's canaries pooping eggs and then they had to wait until they crack.' Johnny continued. 'But with people, mummies crack them instead...that's what he said.'

'Ha! That Tim is a character, I must say!' John laughed.

'Darling, people don't...don't lay eggs.' Anna tried to explained.

'What do people lay then?' the boy insisted.

'Haven't you seen sheep giving birth? Or even a cat?' John questioned.

'I saw a goat once. Mrs Bates took us to see how the cheese is made and there was a goat there and she pooped a baby.' Johnny replied in all his innocence.

'Johnny!' Anna tried too hard to suppress her laugh. 'Babies aren't pooped, they are...well, they aren't pooped.'

'Humans are like goats.' John began. 'Babies come out of their mummies tummy all wet and greasy and all that. Animals, they clean them themselves, and humans, we have warm water and cloths. And human babies cry a lot, unless they are eating.' He looked at his wife who nodded her approval, but the boy didn't seem too sure about the subject. Laying eggs was so much more interesting to him.

'Soon Jeph will have another baby crying in his house.' Anna thought aloud a moment after Johnny dropped the matter. Birds were definitely much better in his book.

'He's a lucky man for that.' John sipped the last of his tea. 'It's nice to have a big family like he has, I think. Being an only child like I am, that's something I've always dreamed of..I mean...something I dream of.' He locked eyes with Anna, tender and longing, and she answered back just the same.

'A man and a woman should have as many children as they wish,' she spoke in a low voice.

'And they shall have…' he said, his eyes never leaving hers. '...as many children as they wish.'

'Oh! Mrs Bates!' Anna jumped in her chair as she saw the older woman's figure at the kitchen door. 'We didn't see you- what's the matter?'

Mrs Bates sighed loudly. Somehow she seemed smaller at that moment. Her expression a serious one, her eyes watery, her hands nervous, trying so hard to be still. A very different woman from what she usually was. Broken, speechless.

'I…' she tried to find the right words, but in moments like this, every word is as painful as a stab. 'I'm afraid I don't bring good news.'

'Oh God!' Anna brought her hands to her mouth. 'Is it the baby?'

Mrs Bates shook her head. 'Janet, she...she died.'

'What?' the younger woman couldn't believe what she was hearing. Tears began to form in her eyes.

'There were complications…' Mrs Bates explained. 'Mrs Kent was not able to save her.'

'Oh God.' John took a deep breath. 'What about the baby?'

'It's a girl. She's all right, she'll thrive if she accepts the goat milk,' his mother replied.

Johnny was listening to the conversation attentively. His little heart racing in his chest, trying to understand the true meaning of what was happening.

'Was Jeph at home?' John asked.

'No...he's working. They are only coming back later tonight. I should be back...the children need someone there. I just came to tell you what happened,' Mrs Bates said.

'I'll go with you.' Anna rose from her chair decided, cleaning the tears that had slid down her cheeks. 'To help with anything...can you stay with him John? I'll be back for dinner.'

'Of course.' John walked to her, taking her hands in his. 'I'll stay with him. And don't worry, I can cook something myself. Go.' He kissed her damp cheek softly, and she smiled before leaving with Mrs Bates.

'What happened?' Johnny asked as John joined the boy at the table again.

'Ailsa's mother died. Do you understand what that means?'

Johnny nodded. 'She has no mummy now? Just like I didn't have a daddy?'

'Exactly. But, in her case, she knew her mummy. The pain she feels is greater for that. And she has a little sister that is so helpless.'

'Little babies need mummies…' the boy added.

'Yes, yes they do, more than anything. Ailsa will need all her friends to be good and kind to her...especially you.' John told him. 'You are her best friend, aren't you?' The boy nodded. 'Well then, you mustn't let anyone be mean to her. Now more than ever.'

'I won't.'

John took a long breath. 'Let's take all those soldiers from the floor before someone steps on them,' he said, trying to think of something to keep them occupied. 'Come on, son…'

It would be a long night.

 **xxxx**

The Kenneth's house was dark when Anna arrived. The air cold, even though she could see the flames from the fireplace illuminating the hall. A silence so deep it pierced painfully through her soul.

'The children were in the kitchen when I last checked,' Mrs Bates whispered pointing ahead. 'I'm going upstairs...if you want to see the baby it's the second door to the left.'

Anna nodded. 'I'm going to see to the children first.'

She walked to the kitchen then, her breath catching on her throat, readying herself for the look of desolation she would find in there, and that was exactly what awaited her. Three long faces with tears in their eyes, looking down at their hands or the top of the table. They were six, ten and fourteen. Two girls and one boy. The fourth brother nowhere to be found.

'Hello.' Anna spoke quietly, unsure of what else to say. The three children faced her as she approached them. 'I'm here to help you,' she managed a small smile. 'If there's any-'

Before she could finish her sentence Ailsa jumped from the chair and ran to her, wrapping her arms around Anna's hips. 'Oh my darling.' she kneeled before the little girl for a tight hug. 'I am so sorry.'

The child's sobs against her shoulder brought tears to her eyes once again, the others looking at the scene, their expressions miserable.

'Where's Ernest, love?' she asked.

'He's...he's outside.' Ailsa replied, as Anna cleaned the girl's tears with her thumbs.

'Come on, let's sit down, shall we? Everything's going to be all right.' Anna's answer an uncomfortable silence, as Ailsa joined her siblings at the table again 'I'm going upstairs, but if you need anything just call me. I won't be long.'

The children nodded, and the teacher peaked outside of the window before leaving the kitchen. Ernest was there, as Ailsa had said, sitting on the wet grass as rain poured down on him. His head fallen between his knees and she could see his heavy breathing by the way his back moved up and down every other second. Her heart broke for him.

'Oh, Anna, come in.' Mrs Bates whispered as she rocked the baby in her arms. The body on the bed was covered by a white sheet. The room smelled of damp and blood and death. Mrs Kent was at one corner gathering her things.

'Now what?' Anna asked, unable to avert her eyes from the lifeless silhouette.

'Now we wait until Jeph's home. He has to decide what to do. The baby shouldn't be here...she has been restless. She can feel something's wrong,' Mrs Kent reply.

'We have to clean Janet and to change her. Jeph won't want to see her the way she is.' Mrs Bates remarked. 'Can you see to the baby, Anna?'

'Of course.'

'I already told my husband to bring some goat milk. He will be here soon,' the midwife added.

'All right,' Anna nodded as Mrs Bates placed the little baby in her arms.

'Go downstairs now, my dear. You shouldn't be here either,' her mother in law motioned for her to go. The air in the room so hard to breathe.

Anna did as she was told, leaving the room with the newborn against her chest. The girl was beautiful. Little fair hair and round flushed cheeks, a small mouth and nose. She had a faint mark on her forehead, and Anna rubbed it gently as the baby let out a lazy yawn, opening her clear eyes.

'Hello my darling,' Anna whispered. 'You're so pretty... I'm sure your mummy would have been so in love with you if she had had the chance…' her own words made her teary again.

'Isn't she beautiful?' she asked the children in the kitchen, showing them their little sister, but they could only stare hesitant, bitter. 'Come on, look how sweet she is. She looks like you Sebastian, don't you think?' She tried anything to make them respond. Their hearts too broken for any sort of attempts.

'No,' the ten year old boy replied, looking away.

She sighed, cradling the baby. 'Laura, why don't you go outside and call Ernest in? He will be ill with all that rain, and he should come meet his sister as well.' Anna suggested.

'He said he didn't want to see anyone,' the eldest girl answered, looking at her hands.

Anna shook her head helplessly. She didn't know what to do or say, but then, was there anything that would make them feel better now? The baby in her arms slept away. The children remained sitting at the table as if waiting for a miracle to happen, and she took the opportunity to walk to the window again, to see if Ernest was fine, but when she looked he was nowhere in sight. Instead, she saw the father running up the road as fast as he could, and in that moment she stopped breathing.

She walked quickly toward the children, standing there unsure of what to do. Glancing at the child in her arms, she remained still, almost too scared to move while a nervous cold rush travelling through her body. _What is going to happen now?_

In that same moment, Jeph came in through the back door of the kitchen. His children's faces and Anna's telling him that what he had heard was the truth, but he wouldn't believe it just yet. He wouldn't let himself be convinced of such tragedy. 'Mr Kent said my wife was dead. He said he was coming with...goat milk because my wife is dead. That's what he said…' he stammered. 'But that's not the truth.'

'Mr Kenneth-' Anna tried to speak but he interrupted her. His eyes filled with tears and his whole body shaking in distress.

'No! No. That's not the truth.'

The baby began to fuss and Anna tried to rock her back to sleep. 'I'm ever so sorry, Mr Kenneth.'

Jeph heard the newborn, his eyes wild, his lips half opened, a sour taste coming to his mouth, but before she could say another word, he ran to the stairs, climbing them in a flash. From the kitchen Anna could hear his desperate cries. The children began to sob once again. ' _Janet!'_

'Jeph! Jeph, you shouldn't be here just yet, let us change her first,' Mrs Bates pleaded, trying to push him away from the room.

'There's no need. There's no need, Mrs Bates...she's fine. Janet's fine.' The poor man sat on the bed, taking the body of his wife in his arms and holding her tight to his chest. Her dress was soaked in blood but he didn't care. He held her tight for as long as he could.

'Jeph please.' Mrs Bates tried to call him to reason.

'She's not dead, Mrs Bates! My wife's not dead…Oh God,' Jeph brushed the messy strands of sweaty hair away from his wife's face, her skin pale and cold. All remains of life vanished. 'Janet...no,' he continued to smooth her hair, trying to make it look nice as it always had been. Long brown shiny hair that had always smelled of homemade food and every one of their children. A smell forever lost. He cried in her chest until he had no more tears to shed. Their house that once held laughs and sibling fights now immersed in constant sobs and prayer. Nothing was going to be the same again.

 **xxxx**

' _May our Lord Jesus Christ, take our sister, Janet Kenneth, in His arms and show her the eternal life and love that He's so kind in giving. This mortal woman, who died giving life, and who leaves behind her children and grieving husband, will forever be remembered by those who knew her, by her kindness and good heart, by the loving mother and wife that she was. She's resting now in the Kingdom of Christ, together with the Mother of all mothers, the Virgin Mary, who will know how to soothe your hearts and afflictions. For she's a mother too, and mothers ease their children's pain…'_

'I can't imagine how you are feeling but know that we are here whenever you need us,' John said to his friend, unsure if his words had been the right ones to share at this moment.

Jeph was standing there, staring down at the grave his wife had been buried in. 'Thank you...you can't imagine, that's for sure,' he replied, not noticing the harshness of his tone. 'I always thought I would go first. We always do…' his voice was softer now, almost too difficult to hear. 'Thank you for taking care of the...the baby this week, I need...I need time to put my mind in place again.'

'Don't worry, Jeph,' John reassured him. 'Ailsa is coming with us too…'

'Yes, Mrs Bates told me. Maybe your lad will do her good. The poor thing hasn't eaten a thing since...' the grieving husband swallowed hard. Everything still too fresh, still so hard to believe.

'Are you sure you can handle the others? We have enough room for them and Mrs Kent and Mrs Lewis would be glad to help too,' John insisted.

'Nah...I can handle them. It's just…' Jeph grimaced tightening the grip on his hat. 'Ailsa is still so young. I think she needs more time.'

'What about Ernest?' Anna asked.

'We all have ways to mourn. He will be home when he feels like it,' he replied.

'I worry he'll be sick. It's been so cold,' she remarked.

'I told him that but he didn't listen…' the man sniffled trying to disguise a sob. His eyes averting everyone. 'I'm going now. I...I'm tired. Laura, Sebastian? Let's go.'

'And you Ailsa, are you sure you want to come with us?' Anna asked the girl as they watched her father and siblings walk away.

'Yes…' the child replied.

'All right then, let's go. It will be start raining soon,' John said as Anna took the girl's hand in hers. The walk home was long. In the distance they saw Ernest sitting on a rock, but neither said a thing.

 **xxxx**

'Oh there you are.' Mrs Bates welcomed them home. 'I'm so sorry I've missed it.'

'It was for a good cause,' Anna sighed, taking her coat and gloves off. 'How's the baby?'

'She's sleeping. Thank God she didn't reject the milk. Goat's so much better for babies than cow's or sheep. Less harmful. And you, my darling girl? I am sure you are hungry,' Mrs Bates smiled.

Ailsa shook her head.

'Oh! But you will be when you see what I baked. Johnny helped and all. He told me he was sure you were going to love it. Come on, now, he's waiting in the kitchen.' The older woman took the child by the hand. The prospect of seeing her friend making her feel a bit better.

'Have you seen the baby yet?' Anna asked John as they stood there in the hall. His coat and hat joining hers on the hook.

'I haven't properly, no,' he answer and she took his hand.

'Come on then.'

They walked up the stairs, his hand squeezing hers gently. The baby was sleeping on Mrs Bates' bed. They walked in the room and sat at each side of her.

'Isn't she beautiful?' Anna said, daring a tender caress on the little child's cheek.

'She is…poor girl.' John furrowed his brow sadly. The baby sighed in her sleep.

'It worries me that he hasn't named her yet.'

'Give him time...he just lost his wife. He has so much going on on his mind.' He tried to excuse his friend.

'I've heard stories of men who rejected their children when the mother died during childbirth. He didn't even look at her,' she told him concerned.

'He won't do that. He just needs time. You heard him saying it was only for a week. He needs to mourn Janet first,' John assured her while he ran his index finger along the baby's closed fist. Her little hand making him smile. 'She's the tiniest thing I've ever seen.'

'She's a little angel. I feel so sorry for her.'

'She will be very loved, Anna, as all her siblings are. I know it. Jeph's a doting father.'

'I just don't want him to blame her for what happened.'

'I promise you he won't. I won't let him.'

The mourning had just began and with it lessons would be learned. In a matter of minutes one's life can change. In a matter of days the world can end and be back again. For Jeph this week would be a test. For his children the beginning of a very different life.

* * *

 _ **Next Chapter:** Bad news from England and a missing son._

* * *

 **So, we have to name that poor little babe, and I want you to help me out. Janet (her mother's name) will be the girl's second name, but she needs one of her own.**

 **Sarah, Louise, Bonnie and Rose, which one do you prefer? Let me know and the name with more mentions will be the winner.**

 **Thank you for reading! And thank you for participating in advance :)**


	16. Life

_**A/N:** Here I am again! Finally! I'm late, I know, but I wish you all a great 2016, filled with wonderful things and lots of more wonderful things :D _

_Now, on chapter matters, Bonnie was by far the favourite name from the ones I gave you, and honestly, that was the one I liked the most too. Also, I did steal an idea from **Silly Beggar** , so thank you my dear ;) Thank you all for "voting"! _

_I hope you all enjoy this chapter._

 _ **Disclaimer:** Same as chapter 1-15._

* * *

 **\- Life -**

The snow had replaced rain once again. That cold February morning had come before daylight, when a desperate cry travelled through the cottage walls. It had been like this for the past week. Cries and midnight lullabies that rocked the house to sleep, only to awaken every single soul a few hours later. But no one ever complained. No one dared to.

'What time is it?' John heard Anna whispering against his neck. The baby's cry had stopped for now. Six days had passed since Mrs Kenneth death and the newborn child and Ailsa had stayed with them, their father too shaken to take care of his younger girls.

'Five,' he replied. 'Go back to sleep, love.' She nodded sighing and he tightened his grip around her body, taking in the smell of his wife in the very early hours of the day. He kissed the top of her head before a knock on their door was heard.

'Miss?' it was the little girl's voice that came to their ears, and they both sat up in bed after telling her to come in.

'Whatever is the matter, darling?' Anna asked before a long yawn escaped from her, but Ailsa didn't answer back. Instead, she looked down at her feet, her nightdress crumbled and her hair messy, one of her hands scratching her sleepy eyes. She began to pout.

'No,' John pleaded. 'Don't cry, Ailsa, come here.'

Ailsa walked toward the bed then, and he helped the girl climb onto it, placing her between them.

'What's wrong? Did you have a nightmare?' Anna questioned, hugging the girl against her chest, where she had settled as soon as she was given the place in the middle of the two.

'I miss my daddy.' Ailsa sniffled. 'I want to go home.'

'And you will…' John reassured her, running his hand through her long locks. 'Soon you will. I'll speak to your dad today, all right?'

The girl nodded, her head resting on Anna's bosom, as she would with her mother every time something haunted her. 'Can I sleep on your chest?' Ailsa's voice was slow and tentative, and Anna didn't have to courage to deny her request. She looked at her husband before answering and he nodded with a tender smile.

'Of course you can, darling.' And the girl closed her eyes shut, trying so hard to fall back asleep.

It comforted Ailsa, somehow, to know that she could have this from someone else, even if she could never have it again from the one she wanted the most. Her mother had big breasts, thick arms, a soothing smell; her embrace was enough to lull her into a hypnotic state of relaxation. The teacher, however, was slim, her chest was small, her smell was sweet and foreign, and she didn't have what made Mrs Kenneth perfect in her daughter's eyes; but she was a woman, and she was a mother, and she knew how to hug a child with dedication and love. Ailsa liked her very much, and that would do, she told herself as sleep began to creep over her once again... It would have to do…

'Is she sleeping?' John asked a few minutes later.

'She is, poor child...you need to talk to Jeph today. This is just making it more painful for her.' Anna said, brushing the girl's hair delicately.

'I will, don't worry. Now, you should sleep too.'

'I will…' Anna reached out to caress his cheek. 'You are a sweet man, Mr Bates.'

'Am I?' he chuckled softly. 'I would like my daughter to be treated well if...if something happened. And I want her to feel good here, there's nothing else we can do.'

Anna only smiled at him. Sleep never came.

 **xxxx**

They all sat at the table having breakfast a couple of hours later. Mourning equals to early mornings. A restless feeling that makes one itch. A tiredness that keeps you awake. Ailsa barely ate. The fork scratched the plate before her and no one said a thing. Her hair had been done neatly into a braid and Anna even dared to let her use a bit of lipstick to cheer the girl up, and it had done its trick, but not for very long.

Johnny watched his friend, his mouth always full of food, chewing it hastily as if this was his last meal. The little baby slept in Anna's arms now, after a good feed.

'Come on, Ailsa, eat your food,' Mrs Bates insisted. 'Empty sack doesn't stand.'

The girl nodded obediently taking a big bite on her toast. 'That's good...before Johnny there eats everything for you!'

'I would never…' the boy wrinkled his nose, looking at his almost empty plate.

'You would,' Ailsa replied, managing a small smile, the toast almost gone.

'He would eat all of us if we let him!' John added after taking a long sip at his tea and the girl couldn't help but giggled at his words.

'I'm no cannibal! I just really like breakfast,' Johnny tried to defend himself.

'And lunch, and tea, and dinner and supper,' Anna shook her head, teasing her son.

The boy rolled his eyes scoffing, unimpressed. 'I will grow tall like Mr Bates, that's all.' John and Anna shared a tender look.

'Oh yes, yes you will,' Mrs Bates smiled. 'Well, better spirits at this table now...who wants more sausa-'

Before the older woman could finish her sentence there was a loud bang at the kitchen door. Silence prevailed for a moment too long. Their eyes searching each other's as if someone in the house had the answer for such intrusion.

'Goodness me!' another knock was heard. Louder this time. 'Barely eight o'clock and someone's visiting already? The rooster must have been loud this morning.' Mrs Bates stood from her chair and walked toward the door, opening it at once. 'Jeph?!'

The widower was pale and cold as he nodded his presence. His coat was buttoned to the last button and he had a cap atop his head, his beard undone, his eyes sunken. The expression on his face was a long one, suffering, as he tried his best to look confident, alive...his hands however betrayed him, fiddling nervously inside his pockets, making whatever he hid in there rattle.

''Morning Mrs Bates...am I too early?' His voice was scratchy, the tone a defeated one.

'Surely you are not! We were just having breakfast. Come in!' the older woman patted his shoulder gently, and he stepped inside.

'Daddy!' Ailsa dropped the cutlery before she could reason, running to her father's welcoming arms as fast as she could. The sight of him everything she yearned for at that moment. 'You've come take me home?'

Jeph looked down at his daughter, her small arms wrapped around his legs. 'Yes, my darling girl,' he said, kneeling before Ailsa and taking the long braid in his hand, feeling the softness of her hair. 'I've come to take you home...both of you.' His own words made him smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

'Miss Smith did my hair just the way mummy used to do,' the girl told her father under his attentive inspection.

'She has, hasn't she?' Jeph nodded, glancing at Anna for a second, and noticing the little babe sleeping in her arms. The tears he thought had been all spent over the last week were back again.

'Don't be sad, daddy,' Ailsa pleaded, taking her father's tanned face between her own hands, and trying her best to clean the rolling tears with her thumbs. 'Miss Smith said mummy would always be with us, watching and taking care of us. We just can't see her, but she can see us very well.'

'I know, love.' Jeph sighed trying to suppress a sob, holding the child tight against his chest and kissing her temple as he did so. The others moved by the scene, trying themselves to hold back their tears.

'Come on, you. Sit with us and eat something',' Mrs Bates offered when father and daughter drifted apart.

'Thank you, Mrs Bates,' the shaken man said, as Ailsa returned to her place at the table.

'Here, Jeph…' Anna stood from her chair, teary eyed, and walked toward him. 'Your baby girl.'

The man took a deep breath before managing a proper look at the baby. He had never seen her before, not properly, although in his cold manner he had dreamed of meeting her many a night. He remembered his wife's words now, as Anna showed him his youngest daughter, telling him this child would be their last, that she wanted to have the energy to grow older as slowly as she could manage, that she wanted to give their children all the time and patience she still had.

'You need her as much as she needs you, my friend.' John's words came to his ears then, and he knew how true they were. That what he needed now was his family all together in this dark time.

'She looks so much like Janet…' Jeph whispered to himself as Anna placed the baby in his arms. 'Bonnie Janet, that's what she is. That will be her name. A bonny girl like her mother.' His tears began to fall once again.

'That's a beautiful name for her,' Anna smiled, relieved, caressing the girl's cheek as Jeph took in his daughter's weight.

'She's heavy,' he said, looking up at his friend's wife.

'Oh she's always hungry! Been eating every two hours still. I reckon that goat milk is a good one,' Mrs Bates replied.

'It will have to do,' Jeph said, dispirited.

'Now sit down, Jeph!' John insisted. 'Let's have breakfast with us. Are the others still asleep?'

'I really shouldn't...I...I just came to fetch my girls. I want all of us together.'

'Whatever is the matter?' John asked him. His friend was restless, he could feel it. There was something else. 'What's wrong, Jeph?'

The man sighed, an old look to himself, as if one passing week had been ten years for him. The baby in his arms yawned lazily, opening her eyes to her father. He smiled, before looking at the others with a desperate expression on his face. 'Ernest...haven't seen him in a week. Can't find him anywhere.'

'Why didn't you tell us?' Mrs Bates said, bringing one hand to her chest. 'Are you sure you looked everywhere? He rambles to the caves side often. Have you-'

'Everywhere. Been to those caves myself...roamed everywhere I could think of.'

'Daddy,' Ailsa cried softly, trying to understand what was happening.

'Maybe we can tell more people to look for him,' John suggested. 'We'll find him, Jeph.' He placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. Jeph could only nodded, unconvinced.

'He's probably too shaken.' Anna tried to tranquilize the perturbed man. 'Maybe he needs some space. He'll come back home when he feels it's right.'

'I hope you are right.' Jeph looked at Anna. 'I hope you are right…I should go now. The others are waiting for me.'

'You go...ask if you need anything. And let us know about Ernest,' John spoke.

'I will. Thank you all for everything...you've done so much. I will never be able to thank you enough.'

'Nonsense, Jeph. We're glad we could help. We're always here for you and your children.' Anna remarked.

'Come Ailsa. Let's go home, love. Grab your things, and thank everyone...and the baby's milk?'

'Mr Kent will take it to your home every morning after he milks his goats, don't worry about it. You'll have to mix in some water, he'll tell you what to do.' Mrs Bates said and Jeph nodded.

The girl joined her father at the door then, after gathering her things and saying goodbye to Johnny. She thanked Mrs Bates for having her and received a kiss from Anna.

And so, father and daughters walked home through the wintery cold landscape. The child held his hand tight as the wind blew against her braid, not ever wanting to let go, afraid if she did he would be gone too. The baby slept peacefully against his chest, wrapped in a thick blanket Mrs Bates had borrow, his eyes sure on the horizon, his heart aching in his chest. It was only when they could no longer be seen in the distance that the door of the kitchen was closed.

'Poor man,' Anna said. 'It wasn't enough that his wife died now Ernest is gone…'

'That boy was always so close to his mother,' Mrs Bates began. 'Always holding at her skirts rather than playing with his mates. When Laura was born they had a bit of trouble with him. He was always so jealous of her, trying to call his parents attention with the most scabrous of things...Reade used to say he was born to be an only child, but thankfully he got used to it.'

'John, where are you going?' Anna asked and Mrs Bates stopped speaking, both looking at John, who was dressing into his coat and hat.

'I'm going to find Ernest,' he said, opening the kitchen door and calling Macbeth. 'I'm going to find him.'

 **xxxx**

It was hard to see after some time. The white snow burned his eyes and froze the tip of his nose. His feet were damp and his fingers ached when he tried to bend them. But that didn't shake John from his self imposed task. He walked as best as he could, dragging his legs through white frozen waves. The dog never left his side, searching as eagerly as his owner.

'Damn…go on Macbeth. Let's find the boy,' he demanded, stopping on the highest point, bringing his hand to his brow to stop the clarity of the snow from piercing through his eyes. 'Where are you Ernest?' The sea was pale grey, the sky just the same. The two mixing together as twins, tell them apart was almost impossible. But then, he heard it. Macbeth barking madly. 'Macbeth?!' John shouted, his vision trying to adjust.

A shadow in the distance. A shadow at the very edge of the cliff, and that's when he began to run as fast as he could.

'Ernest! Boy, what are you doing?!' His voice echoed through the land and he stopped as he neared the lad. Ernest was standing still, his shoulders fallen forward, looking down at the waves crashing against sharp rocks at the very bottom of the cliff. The sound that reached their ears weak from the height of the crag. The dog still barking desperately, as if warning the young man of the danger before him.

'Nothing…' Ernest answered, his voice almost inaudible. 'I was just…' he looked over his shoulder. 'Thinking.'

'Are you mad? It's dangerous, Ernest.' John tried to advice. 'Why don't you come home with me? I'll take you home.' Ernest shrugged his shoulders. 'Your father is worried. He's been looking for you...your sisters are home too. Come on, lad,' John begged.

'I feel lost, Mr Bates, with my mum gone...I feel lost.'

'You have your father, and your brother and sisters...they know what you are feeling. They have the same to share with you. Ernest…' John placed his hand on the young man's shoulder. Macbeth stopped barking then. 'It would destroy them for good if they lost you too.'

'I wasn't going to do anything, Mr Bates. I swear! I swear!' Ernest began to cry, as he turned around to face John, and he welcomed his friend's son in his arms as if he was his own.

'Come here, lad. Shhh it's all right. Come on, let's get you out of here.'

'I wasn't going to do it, Mr Bates.' Ernest swore in all his honesty. His body shaking.

'I know, son. Let's get you home now, your father is worried. Your siblings are there waiting for you.'

'Don't tell him, Mr Bates, please.'

'I won't, if you promise me you won't be missing again.'

'Dad will be furious when I show up.' The boy was desperate.

'He will be glad to have you home, that's it. He's been looking for you everywhere.'

The two walked home with the dog always following their steps. Ernest was weak and his body trembled like a leaf, cold and hungry, after week of rambling with no destination through this difficult landscape. John didn't ask where he had slept, or if he had eaten at all. He knew those questions belong to the father's boy.

'Here, lad.' He covered Ernest's slim body with his coat, patting his back as he did so, trying to give the boy some hope, some reassurance...the young man managed a small smile but nothing more. Soon the Kenneths' house was in sight.

'Ernest, son! Where have you been, lad?' Jeph held his son for dear life, eyeing him from head to toe, making sure he was still in one piece. 'Are you all right? Oh God...where have you been sleeping.'

'I'm all right, dad,' the young man assured, his eyes averting his father's.

'You are freezing cold, son. Why did you do that?' The man wrapped his arms around his son's body, bringing him close to his chest, sighing relieved. 'Running away and leaving us all with hearts in our hands... Come on, let's run you a hot bath. Laura! Children! Ernest's here!'

'Ernest!' the eldest girl ran to her brother for a hug, before the others could join. Even Ailsa got to wrap her arms around one of his legs, holding tight, too tight, afraid he would slip away and be gone again.

'Thank you, John. For everything,' Jeph said with teary eyes, before hugging his old friend, grateful for what he had done.

'Just promise me you will come to us for anything you need,' John told him, patting his back.

'I will, John...thank you.'

 **xxxx**

It was much later when John entered their bedroom again. It was a little past ten and he had just washed and dressed for bed. Anna was lying under the sheets, a book in her hands, _his book_ , and a thoughtful expression in her face. She wasn't reading, he noticed, but staring blankly at the pages, as if they held some secret she was yet to find out. An answer, more like, an answer she so desperately needed at that moment.

'Is Johnny already asleep?' he asked, trying to bring her back to him but her answer wouldn't be more than a nod.

'What's the matter, love? You've been silent since I arrived. Aren't you pleased about Ernest and Jeph? Everything is going to be all right now.'

'I got a letter.' she replied, shortly.

'From who?' he asked, sitting in bed, and realised that the letter she had received was hidden on the page she was staring at. He dared a peek and she allowed him to.

'My brother…'

'What does it say?' he tried to read the few words he could make from where he was sitting.

'It's my mother...she's ill.' Anna took a deep breath. 'She's dying.'

'Oh no.' He shifted closer to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, and she rested her head on his, sighing deeply as she felt his comforting warmth. 'I'm sorry.'

'It's as if bad things come all at once...don't give us even time to breath in between.'

'She's calling for you…' he said, reading the letter.

'She is...she wants to see me, but he says I should go alone.' Anna closed the book bitterly. 'She wants to see me but, not anyone else.'

'Maybe because her state is too delicate for more visits.' John tried to reason, but he didn't quite believe his own words.

'It's because she hasn't forgiven me. She never will!' Anna sat up completely, handing him the book and crossing her arms. 'I'm not even sure if I should go.'

'Forgiven, Anna? From what?' John touched her cheek tenderly, making her look at him. 'You don't need that from anyone. If she doesn't accept what you did, that's her problem...you are not a sinner to be forgiven.'

'In her eyes I am.' she told him, her tone an angry one.

'Her eyes are wrong, Anna. You are the most wonderful and kind person I know. How can she see you so differently than all of us?'

'They don't know what I did. They would cast me out if they knew.' she whispered fiddling with the hem of the sheet.

'Look at me, my love.' he took her face gently in his hands. 'They may not know but they love you for what you are. They love you because you are a beautiful person, inside and out. Your mother is wrong, so wrong.'

'I don't think I will ever be at peace with myself.'

'But why not?' he questioned, looking deep in her blue eyes. Her soul so opened to him, as always, so ready to take his words as shelter, it made his heart ache in his chest. 'Richard died and I am your husband now and Johnny is our son. That's it. Let me give you all the peace you are entitled to.'

And as always his words warmed her heart, as so often her own did for him. She smiled, reaching out for him and moving a lock of dark hair away from his brow. 'I love you...so much.'

'And I love you. More than anything.'

She was kissing him passionately the second after. That was the aftermath of his speech, of the sound of his voice. It lit on her the need to have him as close as possible, to be with him in the most intimate of ways, to be his and no one else's.

Her hands worked at his shirt, helping him to get rid off it, and he did so, willingly, as his tongue tasted her own as best as he know how to. Before too long their clothes lay on the floor, their naked bodies feeling each other's heat under the sheets. Daring hands and bold touches, John on top of Anna, kissing every inch of her skin. She spread her legs and he aligned their bodies, as one of his hand travelled down, to feel her need for him.

'Love,' Anna sighed into his ear as he caressed her there. Her dampness making him moan in pleasure. 'Please.'

Her pleading made him chuckle, and she knew exactly how much he loved when she voiced her desire to him, but more than that, when she showed him just how much she wanted him. For that, she took his hardened length in her hand, touching him in the way she knew he enjoyed the most.

'Don't you just love when I do this?' she teased, biting her lower lip. Her hand working up and down around him.

'You know I do,' he growled into her ear, nibbling at her skin there. 'You naughty girl.'

'Are you complaining?'

'Come here!' He took her hands in his, pressing them hard onto the mattress at each side of her head, shifting his body to the perfect angle. That made her giggle in anticipation. 'Don't you just love when I do this?'

Slowly, he entered her, his eyes never leaving her face, watching the effect of his presence with every taken inch. The change in her breathing, the way her brow furrowed, the flush on her cheeks. She was a poem like this, a painting, a masterpiece. Golden waves spread against the white canvas like pillow, pale and pink flesh, red lips, an ocean in her eyes. She would sink ships if she was the sea. Seduce into her calm waters only for a storm to blast in the late hours of the night, and he was glad he had gave into temptation, for only when he was like this with her, he felt truly himself, reaching paradise. And as his thrusts became harder and deeper, as a conqueror trying to take her to the edge of her own sanity, he felt her legs tightening around his waist, taking him down to her as much as possible. She would subdue into oblivion not long after that, ridding herself from his hands only to wrap hers over his neck, her nails digging painfully into his back, but that only added to his own excitement. Her low moans followed. Cries of pleasure muffled into his skin. Her body jerking underneath his as he tried to hold her close to him, kissing her lips, her cheeks, along her jawline. Telling her how wonderful she felt all around him, that she was his love and his life, that he was close, so close of his own ecstasy. He was there with her, in the fiery throes of pleasure the moment after.

'So should I visit her?' Anna asked him long moments later, as sleep began to weigh heavy on their lids. They lay naked under the sheets, her head resting against his beating heart as her hand played lazily with the hairs on his chest.

'I think you should,' he replied softly, enjoying the feeling of her delicate touch. 'You will regret it otherwise. Maybe, if she's calling for you...she'll want to tell you something important.'

'Maybe...I hope you are right.'

'You know…' he kissed the top of her head, taking in the smell of them that had remained on her hair. 'I've never been truly home before marrying you.'

'What do you mean?' she asked him.

'Only when I first slept with you I felt home. As if...as if you were a destiny I've always been looking for without result. Maybe it's as some say. Fate is written like a book even before we are born.' He sighed deeply.

'I believe so.'

'Because, only now I feel at my destiny. And there's nothing better than to be loved by you.'

'You are very promising tonight,' she giggled into his chest.

'Am I?'

'And you were a hero as well. Saving Ernest...'

'Nonsense.' He felt one of her legs rubbing against his.

'And a wonderful lover. As always.'

'That's true,' he laughed proudly.

'You cheeky!' She raised up to see him better, shooting him a look.

'Also true,' he winked, looking at her breasts and taking a deep breath.

'Come here, you!' She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and straddle him. Her eyes daring and promising. John sat up bringing her with him as his hands travelled to her thighs, squeezing them gently. Now they faced each other, same level, an equal match.

'With all my pleasure,' was all he could say before his lips found hers once again.

When morning came they only had slept a couple of hours, and Anna hoped her mood would improve before she left for work. It would have if she had known that on that night they had made more than love.

They had also made life.

* * *

 _ **Next Chapter:** A tale of a great adventurer, the start of another success._

 ** _Thank you for reading :)_**


	17. Simplest Of Things

_**A/N:** Well...I was here thinking...my dear readers waited so long for chapter 16 that I should compensate them with a bonus before the week was over! And so, here I am! _

_Thank you all so much for your reviews, faves and follows! I know I always say that same thing but it really means a lot to me and your support is gold. Those words you guys share with us writers are what makes us want to write more :) Thank you so much!_

 _I hope you enjoy this chapter, and wish you all a grand weekend!_

 _ **Disclaimer:** Same as chapter 1-16. _

* * *

**\- Simplest Of Things -**

'And when's mummy coming back?' Johnny asked, as he sat on his bed, lifting his arms to help John slip the pyjama shirt over his head. The boy's hair was still damp, his face flushed from long of bath, and his fingers were pruny. John hadn't been able to say no when Johnny asked him for just five more minutes please. Five more minutes that turned into almost half an hour.

Anna had travelled to England three days ago, and John had been more than glad to take care of the boy, constantly shooing his own mother, letting her know with a sure look on his face that he could take care of everything. She had work to do after all, with the teacher gone Mrs Bates had replaced her at the school in the meantime. And truth to be told, he was doing a wonderful job at being a doting father.

'Well...what day is today?' John frowned thoughtfully. 'Friday! Mummy said she would come on Sunday, but she wasn't sure.'

'I miss mummy,' Johnny sighed softly.

'Yes, I know. I do too. But she really had to go,' John reasoned, looking after the boy's pyjamas trousers.

'To visit her mummy who's dying.'

'Who told you that?' he looked at the child attentively, waiting for his answer. He knew Anna hadn't mentioned such matters with her son.

'I heard mummy saying it,' Johnny confessed. 'Mummy never talks about her. She doesn't like me.'

'Why are you saying that?' John sat down on the bed with the boy, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Johnny shrugged saddly. 'I heard mummy saying that too.'

'That's not what she said,' John told the boy. 'Anyway...how can someone not like people they don't know? Your granny has never met you, she can't not like you.'

Johnny pursed his lips, unsure.

'Son,' John continued slowly. ',you are a beautiful little boy, with a heart of gold, don't you ever let anyone tell you otherwise. If your granny knew you, she would love like we do.'

The child nodded, feeling a little better. 'Will you tell me a story, please?'

'But of course I will!' John clapped his hands together, looking right in Johnny's eyes, trying his best to put the child in a better mood. 'Your mummy left me with a long list of instructions on how to handle you, and she wrote in big letters ' _Bedtime story! A very interesting bedtime story.'_ '

Johnny laughed, 'She didn't!'

'Wha- that she did!' John chuckled, mussing the boy's still damp hair. 'Come on, now, let's put on your bottoms..ah! Here they are! And brush that hair... tap some cologne on that manly face of yours...'

Johnny giggled happily as John helped him getting ready for bed. A side brush to tame the boy's golden waves, a dab of the finest scent in the world, warm socks to help him sleep with cozy tootsies, and soon Johnny was under the sheets, eagerly awaiting for storytime to begin as John roamed through the books that were resting on the shelves.

'Well...I reckon we have to add to your collection,' John said. 'Aren't you tired of the same books over and over?'

'Mummy makes up stories sometimes,' Johnny informed.

'Does she? Well, that's what I'll do too then, and mind you, don't you dare tell her that my story is better than hers.'

Johnny rolled his eyes and sunk down on his pillow with a big grin. 'Only if it is!'

'Oh!' John brought his finger up. 'Never,' that made the boy laugh even harder.

'All right then, let me think…' John walked to the bed and Johnny shifted aside smiling up at him. He understood the boy's cue, and took his shoes off before joining him, laying atop the quilt. Johnny scooched closer, leaning his head against John's shoulder and taking a deep breath, waiting.

'I think I've got it!' John announced, wrapping one arm around the boy, as he felt Johnny settling peacefully. That made him smile. He had never thought possible to be so at the mercy of a little person like this. 'Once upon a time,' he began. His voice steady and calming, a whisper almost. 'in a mighty kingdom on a distant land, there was a brave prince called -'

'Johnny!' the boy shouted excitedly.

'Well, yes, that's correct,' John nodded, pretending to be quite impressed with the child's guess. 'His name was Johnny. And Johnny was a powerful prince. Envied by all the other kingdoms, all the other men. He was strong, and tall, and very good looking. A sight for sore eyes, many would say. Desired by the ladies,' he waggled his brow and Johnny let go of a giggle. 'And feared by his enemies. He was the ruler of many lands and countries, of many people... he was a conqueror you see, he had everything he wanted. He would sail the seven seas without ever losing a ship. Brave, strong, determined. But…' John paused, adding to the suspense. '...there was something more that he wanted. Not that he needed, no, but, since he was boy, a little one, he had heard stories about this place. Scary stories. About death and war, and whole armadas that never came out alive. This place that was told to be paradise. A tropical paradise, with all the fruits, plants and flowers you could ever imagine. Gold and precious jewels. With wild animals of every colour and size. It was an Isle, a distant Isle on the other side of the world. Not very big,' he explained. 'But enough...it was called The -'

'Macbeth Isle?!' Johnny shouted again, clapping his hands this time. His enthusiasm hard to control.

'Why…' John shifted in bed, looking at the boy with a puzzled expression on his face. 'Are you saying you know the story already? Who told you?' he joked, feigning to be rather confused.

'I swear I don't...I just guessed,' the boy answer back, hiding his mouth under the sheet.

'Well..you are a very good guesser then…' John chuckled. 'Anyway, where was I? Oh! The Macbeth Isle. Yes, that's what it was called. You see, rumour had it, its sea was wild and stormy. It could rain for days, maybe even weeks. Hurricanes would form at its shores and they would sweep away every living thing if they set their mind to it. For they said the Isle had life of its own. It breathed through its volcano at the highest mountain. It would snore too, on occasion.'

Johnny opened his mouth in awe and John couldn't help but grin before he could continue.

'But there was another thing,' John's voice was low again, with a hint of danger, and Johnny's eyes widened in anticipation, holding the sheet up to his chin. 'Another rumour had travelled from mouth to mouth, reaching the Prince's ears. Macbeth's sea hid another trap. But this...oh...this one was a trap for certain death. For under its waters lay a sleeping beast.'

Johnny gasped bringing his hands to cover his mouth.

'Bigger than all ships,' John flailed his hand, to add veracity to the tale. '...bigger than the Isle itself, many said. A beast that would awaken at the very moment the first man shouted 'Land Ahoy!'. You see, my darling boy, the monster was said to be the guardian of that virgin land. And he didn't want men spoiling its beauties, and he would not allow them to step foot out of their ships and claim such paradise to themselves. Oh no! He would not allow it. He, who could swallow the crew together with the boat all in one go. Tentacles long enough to round the world twice, a smell that would make you faint. But you see, those stories, they only fed the Prince's need to succeed. They fed his hunger of victory, and he swore to his people that he would fight all the storms, and all the beasts and he would even take them to his side, that they would fight as allies with him one day. Of course, his people didn't believe a word he said. They thought he was mad. Taken by an insane ambition. But Johnny The Prince, well, he knew deep inside his heart he had what took to be the master of such wonders and horrors. So, he called the strongest men he had. A bunch of them. He said goodbye to his sweetheart, to his parents, the King and Queen, and he set the route.'

'Did he conquer The Macbeth Isle?' Johnny asked.

'Are you still wide awake?' John looked down at the boy who was smiling at him, nodding his answer with an excitement that promised to last all night. The storyteller laughed shaking his head.

'Tell me everything,' the boy pleaded, dragging himself even closer to John.

'Well, I can't tell you the end before I tell you the rest, can I? For you see...the story is just about to begin…' John continued with a mysterious tone on his voice. 'They sailed for months until they saw it. The Isle. The volcano an ember at the distance. A storm was brewing on the horizon. Heavy clouds. Rain had started pouring in buckets, and no one dared to say a word. There was silence, my boy. Piercing silence. You could even hear the breathing of the men between the crash of the waves against their ship. You could hear them swallowing hard in fear, knowing that one word would awaken the beast that lay sleeping beneath their feet, at the bottom of the ocean. That's where the story begins, when the Prince takes the wheel and sails further and he dares to mutter the words that make blood freeze in your veins.' John made a long pause and took a deep breath and his next words were spoken in such an eerie way that sent shivers down the boy's spine. 'Land Ahoy!'

 **xxxx**

'I thought you were only coming on Sunday!' Mrs Bates said surprised, peeking from the kitchen to the hallway, after hearing the front door being opened. A freezing Anna was the source of the noise and the older woman walked towards her with opened arms, inviting for a warm hug.

'I know I said that but…' Anna smiled, resting her case on the hallway's floor. 'I just couldn't wait to get home. And mother seemed to be doing a bit better last night. How's everything?'

'That's good. Well, the boys are still asleep, I reckon last night was a very late one. I went to the bathroom around midnight and there was still light coming from Johnny's room. John's sleeping there.'

'Really?' Anna asked curiously.

'There were laughs and gasps for dear life! I heard a few curses now and then,' Mrs Bates chuckled.

'From Johnny,' Anna rolled her eyes lovingly.

'From Johnny, indeed.'

'Bless them…' the young woman sighed, hanging her coat on the hook behind the door.

'But you tell me, how's your mother? How did you…?'

'Well, we talked, but...not about what I wanted. She wanted to see me one last time, but I don't think it's that bad, honestly. It's her heart, she's always had a weak one. She's doing much better from when I arrived there. She's walking and all,' Anna told her.

'That is good. Seeing you did her well. You are her daughter after all. These things they, they take sometime.' Mrs Bates tried to sound optimistic. 'You needed time, didn't you? John did too. Perhaps now it's her turn.'

'Yes, I suppose. The simple fact that she wanted to see me was already a big step,' Anna confessed.

'See! That's what I'm talking about. Come to the kitchen, have something to eat, I was going to start cooking breakfast when you arrived.'

'I'm freezing though. I should go up and change first.' Anna said massaging her forehead. 'I'm not feeling too well. The sea was very wild today, I feel a bit dizzy.'

'And you are rather flushed too, for someone's who's freezing,' the older woman noticed.

'I feel strange. Maybe I'm brewing a cold or something. Which is bad. I missed work for three days. I can't get sick now.'

'Oh don't worry, I still have the hang for it.'

'Did the children behaved?'

'Oh! They were silent as silent can be, did all the work you left for me to hand them. I thought I would be a bit confused about having all years at once but it's rather fitting. Spares you some time and the older ones are a good help for the little ones.'

'They are. They are wonderful children,' Anna smiled. 'I'm going up now. I want to see what the boys are up to.'

She climbed the stairs quickly, taking the case with her, but before she could go to their room for a change, she had to stop by Johnny's first, opening the door to a tender sight.

The two _boys_ were still both sleeping as peacefully as they could be. The child had replaced his pillow for John's arm and his face was buried in the man's armpit, his breathing could be heard as it whistled by being muffled on the fabric of the shirt. John slept on his side, still dressed in his day clothes and on top of the quilt. His free arm around Johnny's body, and his soft snores unsynchronized with the boy's.

The scene made her eyes teary, and she stood there for a moment more, taking it in. Admiring every detail of the two.

Her son had golden hair and her husband's was dark, and together they were a perfect match. Maybe the children she would have with John would be just like that too. Some with blonde hair, others with dark brown. John's strong features and her clear eyes. She sighed after a few minutes, walking to the bed and leaning down to kiss her husband's cheek. Sometimes, she realised, that for a second she would forget Johnny was not his son.

'Hmm…' John grumbled in his sleep and she shook her head with a smile.

'And you call me sleepyhead, Mr Bates,' she whispered. 'It's almost ten o'clock.'

'What?' he opened his eyes at once, blinking the sleep away and trying to adjust his sight to the sudden light. 'Anna?'

'That's me,' she announced softly, not wanting to wake her son just yet.

'What...what are you doing here?' he rubbed his face with one hand.

'So glad to see me, aren't you?' she caressed his cheek before running a hand through his messy hair.

He smiled. 'I wasn't expecting you today...what day is it? Friday.'

'It's Saturday. I just couldn't wait to come back home,' she said. 'And good I did, to witness this beautiful scene with my very own eyes.'

John then remembered he was still in the boy's room. Their bedtime story had lasted until late the night before. Instead of putting the boy to sleep, Johnny's undying curiosity for knowing all the details about John's made up characters and their fate had kept them both awake. Question after question, so much suspense, so many dangers, so many prayers for the welfare of the brave Prince Johnny. ' _Please, Mr Bates, tell me he will survive!'_

He looked over at the boy, still sleeping soundly on his arm and smiled. 'Right...I'm afraid we let ourselves go. I started telling him a story and he kept begging for more.'

'You are a good story teller.' she declared.

'Hardly.'

'Listen, if Johnny kept begging for more it's serious. He's very honest about lousy tales, I know it,' Anna giggled to herself.

'Oh yes?' John took her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing her palm tenderly. 'I should get out of bed, wash...eat something.'

'Johnny should too. It's more than tim-,' but before Anna could finish her sentence a sudden rush of dizziness travelled through her. Strong enough to make her lose balance. She sat on the edge of the bed then, with a hand supporting her head.

'Anna? Anna! Whatever is the matter?' John shifted gently, placing the boy back on his pillow and sat up. 'What are you feeling?'

'I'm all right,' Anna managed to speak. 'It's just...I wasn't feeling too well and I think those waves made it worse.'

'Are you sure?' John asked, concerned.

'Yes, I caught some rain while I was there, and it's freezing. I's probably just a cold or something. I should take a warm bath,' she tried to excuse her indisposition.

'Maybe we could share the tub?' John offered, rising from bed and walking toward her. He leaned down, kissing to crown of her head. 'I could scrub your back, if you want.'

'I would like that very much,' she smiled.

'Did you eat?'

'I'm not even hungry, really...I just need to warm up.'

'No worries,' John said, helping her stand up again, a teasing wink on his face. 'I'm good at doing that.' She rolled her eyes, laughing softly.

'Let me just…' Anna turned to look at her son then, and slowly walked to his side of the bed, kissing his cheek softly before running her hand through his hair. The boy sighed contently, probably still dreaming of princes and sea monsters.

 **xxxx**

'Eat something, Anna,' Mrs Bates insisted. 'John, tell her to eat.'

'She doesn't want to, Mother. What can I do?' John shrugged his shoulders, before touching his wife's thigh gently under the table. 'Just the milk then?'

'No, I don't want to. I already had the tea.' Anna said, wrinkling her nose at the sight of the food.

'Tea...that's nothing,' Mrs Bates shook her head. 'Tea's water.'

'But I'm really not hungry, I don't think I could keep it down. I'm just not feeling that well.'

'You should go to bed, love,' John told her, continuing with his hidden caresses.

'Well, I'm not dying either,' Anna chuckled. 'I want to be with you.'

'Let her then,' Mrs Bates gave up. 'When she's hungry she'll eat. She's a grown up woman after all.'

Anna nodded smiling, dropping one hand to her husband's.

'Mummy! You should have heard the story Mr Bates told me last night! It was extraord...extra-!' Johnny's voice was as enthusiastic as it was last night, when questioning about every little detail of John's story.

'Extraordinary,' John corrected.

'Oh my!' Anna exclaimed. 'You must tell me about this story then.'

'There was a Prince, his name was Johnny,' Johnny recounted.

'Oh! Was it?' she lifted an eyebrow as she looked at her husband.

'And a Isle, called, The Macbeth Isle!' the boy continued. 'And there were...beasts, and lots of gold. A bunch! You could buy a country with it, and get change. And there were also cannibals and lions with monstrous teeth! There was also a king and a queen, because Johnny was just a Prince. Even though he was a ruler prince,' he explained, his eyes as big as saucers, trying to make his mother see the logic of it.

'Oh really? What were their names?' she asked, already trying to guess the answer.

Johnny thought for a moment before looking seriously at John. 'You didn't give them names, did you?'

'Well...I didn't tell you their names, but they have names,' John said.

'Let me guess...the Queen is called Anna?' Anna smiled, shooting a knowing look at John.

'Well, you and Johnny have the gift of guessing the names of my characters I see,' John frown jokingly.

'And the King was Mr Bates?' Johnny asked, astonished, readying himself to hear a yes for an answer, and when he did, he just couldn't believe his ears.

'You see,' John began, 'Anna was the most beautiful of women, but she was also kind and giving, helping her people with everything they needed, but Mr Bates well...when he met Anna, many years before, when she was just a princess... he was beggar.'

Anna shook her head gently, looking at him with loving eyes. Johnny couldn't believe he was going to have a free session of storytelling at breakfast time, and Mrs Bates laughed loudly from the counter as she fumbled around with the dishes.

'He was a lost man, tired of life. He had fought many wars, and he had seen many dark days, but...his fate was already written. The Princess would come down from her castle one night and she would stretch out her hand and help him rise again. They fell in love then. As soon as their eyes met. Then they married, they became the Queen and King and they had Johnny, their first son and heir to the throne.'

'Did they have more children?' Anna asked, teasingly.

'They sure did! They had a bunch of 'em! Like…' John said, counting his fingers. 'Like ten of them.'

'Ten?' Anna gasped, bringing one hand to her chest.

'Goodness me, that poor Queen! Bet she regrets helping that beggar off the streets.' Mrs Bates remarked as she washed the dishes in the sink.

'They had nannies to help them,' John reasoned.

'Them nannies don't carry no children for nine months...if I know something about it, and I do.' his mother insisted.

John rolled his eyes. 'They had five children then. Does that meet your approval, Mother?'

'Why, don't change your plans. You gotta ask the Queen not your mother!'

John looked at his wife then, waiting for an answer.

'It's your story, you decide.' Anna freed herself from any responsibility with a giggle.

'Four then,' John gave in. 'Two boys and two girls. Johnny is the eldest. Then, hmm...Nora, David and Hilda.'

'And where's this mighty kingdom you speak of?' Mrs Bates asked, herself quite interested in this tale.

'Where else? Britannia. Around...I don't know. Before Christ was even born. Ancient times.' John said, rising from the chair. 'But, further details will have to wait. I have work to do. Have to write scheduling a meeting with Mr Helmer.'

'You go. I'll be sure Johnny doesn't bother you.' Anna smiled at her son, and the boy's answer was a deep sigh.

'He never does.' John walked away after patting the boy's head, but even he couldn't wait to tell more of his own story.

 **xxxx**

'Feeling better, darling?' he asked her later that night, as she walked in their bedroom.

He had been writing on his typing machine for some time now. His faithful candle was burning on the desk, lighting the room together with the lamp of his nightstand. The snow outside was heavy, covering the windows with a white frozen sheet. The coldest late February he had ever remembered, but in all his life, he had never been so warm.

'Oh yes, much better.' She pulled the ribbon from her hair, releasing it, and he tapped a hand on his leg, encouraging her to sit down on his lap.

'Come here,' he said and she sat down willingly, wrapping her arms around his neck. 'I missed you so much.'

'I've missed you too,' she said before placing a soft kiss on his lips. 'I couldn't wait to get back.'

'How did it go?' he asked. One of his hands around her middle and the other touching her hair. He loved the feeling of her locks beneath his fingertips, he couldn't get enough of it.

'All right, I think. I told you everything already,' she shrugged her shoulders.

'There's something else though,' he eyed her warily. 'Tell me.'

'Something else?' Anna frowned. 'I don't know of nothing else. Maybe you know more than I do.'

John looked down smiling. 'Don't say it then. But there's something else.'

She sighed, shaking her head. 'There's nothing else.'

'All right, if you say so.' He squeezed her side and she giggled.

'Stop it, you silly.' She smacked his arm before burying her face in the crook of his neck. 'I will tell you if there's something else, when there's something else.'

'I trust you.'

She felt the vibrations of his answer against her cheek and smiled, running her hands along his back and inhaling in his scent. If there was something else? Well, she hoped so. She prayed for it now, fiercely, as she had prayed once for the complete opposite result.

'You know…' she talked moments later, after the comfortable silence they always shared. His lips had tickled at the skin of her neck, together with his hands around her waist. 'I think you should build your story...write it down.'

'What do you mean?' he pulled back from their embrace to look at her.

'I think you should write it. For the sake of it. Maybe...for Johnny,' she suggested with enthusiasm. 'You could write a children's book. You're a wonderful storyteller, and you are even better with written words.'

'You are all making it too much of the thing. It was something I made up to put Johnny to sleep.' John shook his head.

'And it didn't work. He wanted more and more.' Anna took his face between her hands. 'What story is not made up? Even true ones have their fictional facts. You could just, make it a family book. To read for us, for the children we may have,' she smiled tenderly at him as she caressed his cheeks.

'I'll think about it. I promise.' He placed his hands on top of her own. 'But...I've been working on something else.'

'Have you?' she ask, surprised.

'I can't tell you what it is, but yes. A book.' He looked over at the typing machine to make his point.

'Goodness! Is that that pile you have in your drawer?' Anna tried to read the paper on the typewriter but he pulled her back to him.

'You peeked?' John asked, shooting her a look.

'No, I haven't! I saw it so neatly organised and turned down I thought it was something about your fishing business.'

'No, that's my...that's it. Please, don't peek. I don't want to have to hide it from you,' he begged.

'I won't,' Anna smiled. 'I promise. I will only read it when you tell me to. If you tell me to.'

'I will, but not yet. Not soon either. It's a work in progress. Don't even ask what it is about.'

'No. I won't ask about it ever.'

'You are a good girl, you know,' he whispered, holding her chin and turning her face to him when she teased him with trying to peek.

'So I've been told,' Anna giggled.

He kissed her deeply then, a passionate kiss as it often happened. Tongues meeting frantically as if after this there would be nothing more.

'Are you feeling good enough?' John asked when they broke apart, running his hands along her sides.

'Good enough for what?' she bit her lower lip.

'For-'

'Mr Bates!' Johnny stood at their door watching the scene with a wrinkle of disapproval on his nose. 'Can you tell me the rest of the story? We left Johnny The Prince in quite a conun...conudam.'

'Conundrum? I'm afraid we did.' John pursed his lips as he looked at his wife. 'We did,' he mouthed and Anna couldn't help but laugh.

The night found the three on the couple's bed as John told the tale of the mighty, brave prince. Anna was as interested as Johnny was, and they only gave in into sleep when John let them know he would save the rest for the next day.

Johnny slept in the middle of two that night, snuggling into his mother's neck, and his legs spread over John's, and as the storyteller watched his little family dozing off, he understood then that it was indeed the simplest of things that made one truly happy. Sharing a bed with his wife and son...little did he know that soon there would be another one keeping them company.

* * *

 _ **Next Chapter:** Announcements._

 ** _Thank you all for reading :)_**


	18. Waiting

_**A/N:** Good evening everyone! Another chapter up, about 4 or 5 more to go. It's coming to an end and I hope you are all enjoying the ride. Thank you all for your reviews, faves and follows :D_

 ** _Lourdes: Johnny never called John dad. John asked him to but that is yest to come ;)_**

 _W_ _ish you all a great weekend!_

 _ **Disclaimer:** Same as chapter 1-17._

* * *

 **\- Waiting -**

Anna woke up around seven, as she normally did, but her husband still slept. John would always be the first, waking her up with kisses and gentle touches, smiling whenever she grumbled for more time in bed. Not today. Today she had been given time to admire him instead. His mouth half opened, a gentle snore coming from his nose, his hair mussed and stuck to his forehead. She smiled at the sight, and ran a hand along his cheek, ever so gently. He was warm and relaxed, and she didn't have the heart to wake him up.

The night had been a late one for him, writing on his typewriter as eagerly as she had ever seen him. Word after word, a hand grasping on his chin, a thoughtful expression on his face. The tapping sound of the keys hard in her ears but somehow it made her feel good. So good, sleep had come fast and sure. Tap, tap, tap...it was soothing, having him there working in their bedroom. She had read his books years before meeting him, dreamt of this man, this place, this sort of life. Now she was here, she was his wife. A future together that had began in the past.

The school bell would ring in a hour and a half, Anna realised, looking over to the clock on her nightstand, and quickly, she got out of bed ready to start her day. She washed in the bathroom and brushed her hair, pinning its sides to get it out of her face, and slowly she went back to the room, not waiting to spoil her husband's sleep.

She opened the wardrobe door, peeking at her dresses, always favouring the blue ones she had, but, before she could pick one, she caught the sight of her image in the closet's door mirror, and unable to look away, she turned to face herself.

Her hair was looking all right but she seemed a little pale, perhaps a little bit of blush on her cheeks would be needed. The nightdress she wore was crumpled and she remembered her husband's hands roaming along the fabric last night, after he came to bed, waking her up with a kiss on her shoulder and asking if she was already sleeping. She had had to giggle at his question, for he knew too well his writing had put her to sleep. He told her then he hadn't been able to resist touching and kissing her; his words coming as a whisper in her ear while he lifted the nightdress to her waist. They had made love in the late hours of the night, and it had been quick and gentle before falling into a peaceful sleep.

And then, as she revived the wonderful moments that had happened merely hours before, the wonderful state of being married to the man she loved, her eyes dropped to her body, a smile forming on her features and her hands coming to caress just under her stomach. Daring a glance at her sleeping husband through the mirror she sighed deeply, hoping that she was right about it.

There was still nothing there to be noticed, to feel, to move...but all that would come with time.

 **xxxx**

'Very well, Simon...now add five….' Anna patted the pupil's head with a smile on her face.

The children were quiet, working on the papers she had handed them after lunch. It was Mathematics time and some long sighs could be heard. Many were frowning in deep thought, others looked up at the ceiling in desperation, maybe even risking a prayer for time to go by faster. The little ones were adding and subtracting, the olders were dividing and multiplying. They all thought this was hell on Earth.

'Hello there,' Anna crouched besides Ailsa's table. 'How's it going?'

'All right.' the girl answered softly. Her hair was done in two thick braids, shining and well brushed. She smelled of roses and washed clothes.

'And you?' the teacher insisted, placing her hand on the Ailsa's shoulder.

'I'm good. I held Bonnie last night, daddy said I could,' she replied enthusiastically.

'That's nice!' Anna said happily, glad the girl seemed to be more interested in life. 'Did you like holding her?'

'I did. I like her,' Ailsa confessed.

'Of course you do. She's your little sister.'

'Laura is taking care of us while daddy and Ernest work. Daddy said she was the woman of the house now,' Ailsa continued.

'Well, she is. She's the eldest.'

'Yes, and daddy said that a home needs a woman in charge.'

Anna chuckled. 'Your father is very wise.'

'And he doesn't really know how to do braids and match dresses and stockings,' the girl explained as she scratched the edge of her notebook with the pencil she had in hand.

'So, he's working today?' the teacher asked.

'Yes.'

'That's good. Life goes on, Ailsa. Even if it looks like it shouldn't,' Anna said kindly to the child, and Ailsa nodded, managing a small smile. 'Well, I'll leave you with your work now. Call me if you need me, all right?'

'Yes, Miss. I will.'

 **xxxx**

'You haven't been eating…' Mrs Bates eyed Anna over her spectacles as she mended some socks at the kitchen table. The teacher was correcting some tests for her pupils. 'Have you gone off my food?'

'Oh, of course not!' Anna looked up from her work to face the older woman. 'You are the best cook in the world, Mrs Bates. You know that.'

'Well, what then?' her mother in law enquired further.

'My stomach hasn't been too good lately, that's all,' Anna replied, grimacing.

'Your stomach...I see.' Mrs Bates nodded pursing her lips. The person who would be able to fool her was yet to be born. 'I have clothes to hang, I'll do that now.'

'Let me help you!' Anna offered, resting the pen she was using on top of the table.

'There's no need.'

'Come on, Mrs Bates, you can't do everything by yourself, can you? And you know I like to help,' the young woman insisted.

'All right then... but you work, and you bring it home with you every day. I know it. I was a teacher too, remember? A work that never ceases.'

'I know, that's why I like to help around the house,' Anna reasoned. 'Makes it for a change, and I can't just look at numbers and letters all day, else I'll drive myself mad!'

'You know, you should start cooking with me more often,' Mrs Bates suggested. 'Learn some of my old recipes. One day I won't be here anymore and you have to pass it on the next generations. Family recipes.'

'You will always be here, Mrs Bates,' Anna smiled, trying to shake the thought of mortality away.

'Watching from above while you and my John grow old together with your children around you. Yes, I will,' the old woman said, chuckling, as they both walked to the laundry room. Anna shook her head at her remark. 'You don't like to talk about the certain things of life?'

'About death, I don't,' Anna replied.

'But what's death if not life? You can only die if you were born. It's not as bad as people say it is.'

'Isn't it?'

'We die, our soul leaves our mortal body and we live an eternal life, watching over those whom we love. Is that so bad?' Mrs Bates rested her hands on her wide hips, raising her brow.

'Do you believe that? You are so religious, I thought you believed in hell, heaven or limbo.'

'I am religious, all right, but...well, if I could choose I would like to stay wandering around instead of going somewhere where I would have to stay forever. I like the idea that spirits can guard their loved ones,' Mrs Bates explained.

'If that's the case, it doesn't sound that bad, no... Oh my! Three basins!' Anna's eyes popped at the amount of clothes they had to hang.

'I've been waiting for the weather to dry off a bit more, but I'm afraid it won't happen any time soon. We have to hang everything before it starts smelling. Never seen such a humid March,' Mrs Bates remarked.

'Yes, it doesn't feel like Spring is coming soon.'

'Oh, but it will. It always does.'

'Give me that one then, I will do it. Now I know why John was saying he didn't have any clothes to wear...' Anna chuckled, ready to lift one of the basins off the floor.

'Just drag it...you shouldn't be lifting weights in your condition,' the older woman advised, as she began her task, gathering the pegs and adjusting the line. 'I don't think we will have enough-'

'What?' Anna looked at Mrs Bates, confused by her remark. A hint of anticipation in her voice. 'What do you mean?'

'There won't be enough space for…' the older woman began to respond but the look on Anna's face told her that was not what she wanted to know. 'Ah! Well...you see…' Mrs Bates sighed, knowing exactly why the young woman was so curious about what she had said. 'I've noticed your pads haven't been wash in over a month. I am a woman, I know and notice things.'

'I'm late,' Anna tried discredit Mrs Bates' suspicion. 'That's all.'

'How long?' the older woman eyed her.

'Three weeks or so.'

'What are you waiting for for sharing such wonderful news?' Mrs Bates lifted her brow, puzzled.

'I don't know...I'm late sometimes. It's happened before.'

'Oh, my dear.' The older woman walked to Anna with a smile on her face, holding her hands. 'You've been pregnant before too, you know the difference between being late and being with child. If I know!'

'I just…' the young woman squeezed Mrs Bates hands nervously. 'John speaks of children so often, I think he dreams of it at night. I just don't want to disappoint him if this is just…' she shrugged her shoulders.

'You know it's not,' Mrs Bates told her with certainty in her voice.

Anna smiled a bit teary. Realisation finally hitting. 'It's not.'

'I am so happy for you my dear.' The older woman tried to suppress an emotional tear but it was too late, so instead, she pulled her daughter in law into her arms, holding her tight. 'I can't believe I'm going to be a grandma! I mean, I already am but...it will be nice to have a baby in the house.'

'It's your son's child, you have every right to be excited,' Anna reassured.

'And are you?'

'I couldn't be happier. I feel like I'm dreaming,' she confessed.

'Then, go and tell him! So he can start dreaming of something else!'

 **xxxx**

' _And that cliff meant so much more than landscape, than a place for lonely sleepless souls to refuge from the real world. It meant life. It meant the two of them in the most opened of ways. It meant the stars, their confessions, plans that were yet to be shared. They had fallen in love long before, but in there they understood it. In there they came together, as one.'_

'You gave me a fright, son!' John said, looking to his side to see a very still Johnny staring attentively at him. The boy's eyes following his every movement on the typing machine.

'You're writing?' he asked, curiously.

'I am, indeed.'

'My story?' Curiosity was replaced by anticipation.

'Well…' John looked at his words, furrowing his brow. 'Yes and no.'

'Yes and no?' Johnny wrinkled his nose confused.

'It doesn't matter.' John shook his head, turning on the chair to face the boy. 'What brings you here? Shouldn't you be doing your homework?'

'It's all done.'

'Good boy.'

'I came here to have a chat with you.' Johnny stated, walking toward the couple's bed and jumping up on it. He sat down neatly at the edge, his hands trapped between his legs and a serious look on his face.

'Goodness me!' John chuckled, dragging the chair toward the bed. 'You are making me nervous. What's this about?' He stopped before the child, a look of interest on his face. Johnny liked that about his Mr Bates. He was always interested in what he had to say, no matter what it was. He was different than most adults he knew.

'I'm writing a book too,' the boy replied proudly.

'You're joshing!' John exclaimed surprised.

'I am not. I'm really writing a book,' Johnny insisted, raising his voice to make his point.

'Well, that's wonderful! Have you told your mother? She'll be over the moon when she finds out her boy is a writer as well.'

'I can't tell her because it's a surprise. It's for her birthday,' the boy explained, talking with his hands, something John would do very often. That put a grin on the man's lips.

'Oh! That's a very good idea,' he encouraged the child. 'You have three months to write it.'

'And I need your help. I don't want to give her a present with mistakes and…with...' the boy thought well his words before speaking…'poorly written characters.'

John laughed. 'You don't want that, no. So, you want me to read it for you, is that it?'

'Yes…but it's not ready yet,' Johnny pursed his lips.

'Well then, whenever you have it all done, I'll read it,' John said.

'All right then, it's settled.' The boy jumped from the bed, relieved, with the most of professional expression on his face. 'Once I'm done I'll show you, but you can't tell mummy about this.'

'My lips are sealed my boy. Don't worry.'

Johnny nodded, eyeing John, before stretching his hand out to him. 'It's a deal then.'

'It's a deal,' John answered the boy's handshake equally dedicated. A story about a dragon and a fierce princess was to yet to come.

 **xxxx**

'You've been very pensive today, my love.' John said as he walked into their bedroom.

Anna was sitting on the bed folding some clothes, the curtains were open allowing the weak light of the day to come in.

'Your mother always makes me so with the things she says,' she replied, shooting him an amusing look.

'Goodness!' he sat besides her. 'What did she say now?'

'Sometimes...she surprises me, that's all,' Anna told him. 'And she wants me to start learning her recipes.'

'It's serious then. Well...you're her daughter, aren't you? And she strives to preach her teachings,' John chuckled.

'What do you think happens when we die?' she asked him out of the blue and the question took him by surprise.

'God, Anna!' he laughed before the expression on her face made him turn serious. 'What brings that up now?'

'Just asking,' she said, continuing to fold the clothes before her.

'Well...I don't know.' he scratched the back of his head, unsure.

'You believe in souls, don't you?'

'I do but...not souls that fly and all that. I think of souls more like energy. And I think, when you die, you die. I may be proven wrong when my time comes but, if I am right, I think it's good enough.'

'Is it? Enough that you die and that's it?' she insisted.

'That's it? This is it, Anna. This life, this world. Isn't that enough? Loving, living, caring...healing. Make the most of it, they say. Because this is the most of it.' John shifted nearer her, running a hand through her loosen locks. 'Thankfully I found you, else I would have wasted this wonderful, single opportunity.'

His reply made her smile.

'What do you think happens?' It was his time to question her now.

'I honestly don't know,' she answered, stopping the folding to think. 'But, if I have to face an eternal afterlife, I want to have you there with me.'

'I don't think God likes non believers,' he grinned softly, his hand playing with her hair.

'God likes good people,' she said rolling her eyes. 'No matter what they believe.'

'I hope you are right, if there's a God.'

'And if there's not, then, I want to make the most of this life with you.'

'And we shall!'

'Yes,' she nodded determinedly before smiling at him.

'We will grow old together, build a family, fill this house with laughter and song,' he whispered against the skin of her neck, the sensation sending shivers down her spine.

'Like the King and Queen of Ancient Britannia?' Anna chuckled.

'Exactly like them,' he confirmed, his eyes locked with hers.

'Well then...good we already started working on it.'

'Yes, we can't waste any time,' he said, kissing her lips tenderly and trying to take the remains of the freshly dried laundry from her lap. She resisted him, grabbing one of Johnny's shirt and neatly folding it.

'We didn't,' she told him with certainty in her voice, glancing toward him with a mischievous look on her face. 'Waste any time.'

'No?' John asked confused, not quite realising what she was trying to tell him.

'No…' she repeated.

'No! What?' He took her hands in his, stopping what she was doing. The look on his face was a serious one. He swallowed hard, waiting for her answer.

'That's why I've been sick,' she confessed, taking a deep breath.

'Why?' his eyes grew wide with anticipation, and his heart began to race in his chest. He needed exact words from her.

'Because I'm pregnant!'

John brought one hand to his mouth. 'Are you serious?' he asked, a smile beginning to form on his features.

'Yes,' she responded, moved by his reaction. He was speechless as she spoke, his eyes teary and a wonderful grin on his lips. 'I'm with child, John.'

'Oh God! Anna.' John pulled her to him, hugging her tight against his chest and breathing in her hair. He couldn't believe what she had told him. He, a man who once lost all hope of living was now on the edge of something so beautiful and fulfilling as this future of theirs. For so many nights he had dreamed of this...and now it was so close to happening. 'Are you sure?'

'Yes, I am sure,' Anna pouted trying to suppress her tears. 'I've been sure since I visited my mother.'

'Last month?!'

'I just...I wanted to be sure everything would be all right,' she reasoned, fiddling with the buttons at the top of his shirt.

'Oh darling.' He kissed her forehead tenderly, his hands caressing her cheeks. 'And mother knows, doesn't she?'

'She does,' Anna giggled. 'She told me to be sure about it.'

'Ha!' he laughed, pulling her to his chest again. 'That's why she's been nagging me about that other room.'

'What room?'

'The spare one next ours. She's asked me to clean it and to paint the walls and to fix the window. Water comes in if the rain is angled, she said. I reckon she's already dreaming of a little grandchild sleeping there,' he said.

'Well,' Anna began, looking up at him. 'if it's a boy he can share with Johnny.'

'No matter what it is, boy or girl, this child…' he placed a palm over her stomach, smiling at her as he did so. 'this child will be so loved. Already is.'

Unable to control her tears, Anna wrapped her arms around his neck and held him as close to her as possible. He had never looked so happy before and for that she couldn't be happier herself. This life that grew inside of her was already so important and she couldn't believe that one could feel so wonderfully good. She had been pregnant before, but this was the first time she felt truly excited about it.

* * *

 _ **Next Chapter:** Adventures on Anna's birthday. _

**_Thank you all for reading :)_**


	19. Life Lessons

_**A/N:** Good evening everyone! Hope you all had a great week and that you are having an even greater weekend! Here's another update, and I hope you all enjoy it. It's Anna's birthday and an exciting day lays ahead of them :D _

_Thank you all for your reviews, follows and faves!_

 _ **Disclaimer:** Same as chapter 1-18. _

* * *

**\- Life Lessons -**

'Are you feeling it now?'

It was May and sunshine, and the breeze that came from the sea. It was a barking dog, the cries of seagulls, waves. Golden waves under the dim rays of the morning sun, yet too fragile after an overwhelming winter. The curtains were opened as they lay in bed. It was Saturday and her birthday. It was also a gentle hand over her growing stomach, trying to feel what she had described to him the night before.

'No...it stopped.' Anna sighed contentedly, her fingers finding his under the sheets. The warmth of his touch, of his loving, protective touch, already so dedicated to this new existing life, making her feel exquisitely happy. 'It was ever so soft... you'll be able to feel it soon too.'

'I just can't wait for it…' his eyes were bright and hopeful, as young as she's ever seen him. He continued. 'To see it grow…I know it's here…but feeling it, I think it makes is just so real.'

The bump was barely visible, but for someone like John, who knew so well every single curve of her body, every single freckle, the little change was evident.

'It does. Maybe one more week or so,' she said, her eyes closed, enjoying these last minutes in bed.

'And soon you'll be even bigger!'

'Like a whale.' She heard him chuckle, his hand now drawing lazy circles on her skin.

'Like a beautiful, elegant whale,' he told her, kissing her cheek. 'And I will love you more with every inch, with every day.'

'Silly beggar.' His words were always right. 'I hope all that love doesn't vanish after the baby is born.'

'Not ever, you know that better than anyone else.'

Anna opened one eye to take a look at him. 'So, what are we doing today?'

'Well…' John thought for a second, sitting up against the headboard. 'I was thinking about a walk on the beach? Mother said she would bake a cake for dinner. A huge one. Got candles and all.'

'We walk on the beach everyday,' she whinned, turning in bed with her back at him.

'I'm afraid there's not much we can do here…' he said, chuckling at her reaction. Indeed, she was right. Now that the weather was improving they would go for walks on the beach every day. What else could they do on this Isle? 'You didn't want to go to the mainland, remember?' he added and she turned again to face him, her look of one who had already hatched an idea. 'What? Did you have plans?'

'I was thinking…' she began to fiddle with the hem of the sheet, a pout forming on her lips. 'You never showed me the caves yet. Or the waterfall. Promised, but never showed me anything.'

John smiled, 'And I will, but not today.'

'Why not?'

'Anna, caves?! The waterfall...it's a long walk.'

'And what's the problem with that? John Bates don't you dare tell me 'your state'.' Anna sat up.

'Well but, you are in a delicate state.'

She rolled her eyes. 'Spoil sport. I want to go. Johnny would love it too. Please.'

'Anna, the path is difficult. There's hills and there's rocks...what if you fall?' He tried to reason, but she wouldn't have it.

'I can very well fall down the stairs too, or walking to the school or in the tub. I want to do something different today. I just...feel so much energy.' She scooped near him, wrapping one arm around his neck. 'I feel like I could walk around the world in a day! I'm feeling wonderful.'

'I don't know.' John shook his head, thinking. The way she spoke, so light and joyful made him want to give in her idea.

'Please. Show me beautiful things, John,' Anna pleaded, running her fingers along the back of his neck. 'Show me where you were a boy. Please?' Then she tried another method, one she knew to work too well. 'What if all this energy is your child's craving? If we don't go the baby will be born depressed. You don't want that, do you?'

'God! Of course I don't! All right, all right. We'll go.'

Anna smiled victoriously before kissing him soundly on the cheek. Their adventurous day was just about to begin!

 **xxxx**

'The caves? Goodness me! Such energy this girl has.' Mrs Bates shook her head with a smile. The steamy pan of eggs and sausages in her hands, ready to be placed at the centre of the table. 'That babe will be a runner.'

'A runner?' John asked.

'A runner. Energetic. Running all over the place and getting himself into trouble. I was just like that when I was expecting John Bates yourself, and you know what I've got.' His mother replied, sharing a look with Anna from over her spectacles.

'I was not that bad.' John tried to excuse himself, but a better witness of his childhood mischiefs couldn't exist than his own mother.

'You weren't because you don't remember you were. Moon high up in the night sky and Margaret Bates shouting his name. ' _John Bates, where are you boy?!'_ His father would go out to search for him,' Mrs Bates told as she began to serve everyone. First Johnny, then Anna, John and finally herself.

'Where was he?' Anna asked curious.

'Watching the stars, swimming in nothing but skin...sleeping between Mr Kent's sheep.'

'Aw. Sleeping with sheep?' Anna smiled, looking at her husband. He wasn't too happy about this whole conversation.

'Aw, yes, aw after we found him and were sure he was all right. Gave him a few smacks now and then but until I realised it wouldn't do. He would do the same the next day,' the older woman continued.

'I'd like to sleep with sheep,' Johnny remarked, his mouth full of bread and an excited look on his face. 'I like sheep!'

'I'm not sure you would like to spend a whole night between hay and wool,' Anna chuckled.

'That's what they call a free soul,' Mrs Bates sighed. 'Not all the smacking can change his spirit.'

'Mother's smacking you mean…' John spoke. 'Life made sure I got a change.'

'But you didn't. You just hid your true self until it was safe to free him again,' Anna told him and her words made him smile again. She was always right, his Anna. She always knew him better than he knew himself.

'See...heard her words once, knew she would be the one for you,' Mrs Bates confessed, sure of her skills for reading other people's souls . 'I still remember when she arrived here with her boy by the hand. She looked around, took a deep breath, turned to me and said. ' _I'm now only where I was meant to be.'_ I knew it then. John always had a soft spot for being poetic and speaking soulfully,' the old woman laughed. 'Once after one of his days out and about, which was every day, he told me he had seen paradise on earth. ' _If only men knew the wonders they are given free they would set their mind to do only good without rebellion.'_ What sort of thing is this? He was eleven or twelve. Didn't even know what he was talking about because he ran to his room afterwards.'

'I was talking about...about the place I'm showing you today!' he said, looking at Anna.

'Really?!' His words made her even more excited about the whole thing.

'Yes. I wrote about it quite a lot in my book.'

'I know.' She had read his book more times than she could count. Of course she knew it, and that's exactly why she wanted to visit this place.

'It is indeed Paradise,' John whispered to himself, a blissful grin growing on his lips. He had missed that place, and he didn't know why he hadn't been there yet, since he arrived back...had it been because of fear? Fear that his now scarred soul would see it differently? Would his eyes see it as the same old place of his childhood dreams? Although he wasn't sure, he wanted to go there now, more than ever. Anna's eyes shone at the idea, as his had once, many years ago. She was a security for him, a certainty, that if that place wouldn't be the same for him, he could always see it through her. Through her all things became especial, even those he thought long lost in despair.

 **xxxx**

" _The sky was always misty and in the air there was always a gentle breeze. A damp gentle breeze cast by the water that fell from the heights. For many years, Reade thought that place, that very mountain range, was where everything had began. Life, light, the world. The sun rose from behind the hills every morning. Its rays embracing the landscape with such tenderness. The grass, the flowers, the birds, alive with every warm touch. He knew, since a very young age, that one day he hoped to be hugged like that, with a longing of a thousand nights away, every time, every day._

 _His mother used to tell him that some places were magic, but many times the magic was in the eyes of those who could actually see it. And he could. He swore he could, and he prayed for that magic, that wonderful feeling to be always be present, no matter what."_

 **xxxx**

'Be careful Anna!' John cautioned, placing the picnic basket on the ground and reaching out for her as she jumped over a rabbit's hole.

'I am all right! Stop it.' She held his hands as he helped her, but truth to be told, she loved him more for all the fuss. It was funny and sweet, that he thought of her condition as something so grave and dangerous, and she had to remind herself often that he had never waited for a child before. Everything was still so new for him, as it was for her...strangely so. 'Worry about Johnny instead, look at him go!'

The boy ran ahead, too excited to be held back by the two adults. The dog, of course, followed him, barking with every step.

'Oh he's fine.' John grinned watching the boy, and only then his own feelings took him aback. The very same sky. The very same magic. The very same wonderful feeling as before. He took a deep breath, stopping on his tracks, his eyes taking in what he thought had been long lost. It made him teary, and it made his heart race, and his mind was washed by a little boy running up and down those hills, that grass. A little boy filled with dreams and wonder, filled with a life he thought would never cease. His eyes had been greener then, and his hair lighter from the sun and the salty water. His face had been rosy and his lips always dry from the wind. That boy had swore so many things for himself...if he could see him now, he would weep. Weep with joy and completeness.

'He's a child,' John continued, as he felt Anna squeezing his hands. She had seen all the feelings mirrored on his face, and she would say nothing and let him have them for himself. He would tell her about them sometime. She knew it and he knew it too. 'Children are the last ones to get hurt on an adventure. They are meant to run and be wild.'

'I hope you have that same philosophy with your…' he eyed her with a cheeky grin before she could finish her sentence. She had been caught in time to be corrected. '...with this one. And don't fuss as half as you fuss with me now.'

'I won't, believe me. Children should be one with nature, with their surroundings. They should look at their world and relate, know about it, feel it. Even if they fall, even if they get a scratch...it's all part of their growing. Those children turn into better people. More caring, more sincere.'

'I reckon I couldn't have chosen a better place and a better man to make their path just like so.' She leaned her head against his shoulder as they walked.

'If you think so.'

'Mummy, mummy look! Look!' Johnny shouted in the distance, pointing to the source of his enthusiasm.

'Oh my God…' was all Anna could say, for the sight before her had no need for words. Actually, the words had already been written, and for many nights she had memorised every single one of them.

The water came from the highs to clash over the rocks. The mist forming a soft rainbow against the sunlight. Across the grassy field, there were hundreds of sheep happily eating, their bells ringing, their voices echoing with the background noise of the waterfall, casting a magical spell to their senses.

'Whoa!' The boy's eyes were big as he looked up to the cascading water, amazed with what he saw. His mouth was half opened and the vapor of the waterfall damped his face.

'It's beautiful. I've never seen anything like this before,' she finally managed to say as she walked ahead of John.

'When it's summer we can swim there. It's a bit too cold but...for someone who dove into icy waters during plain winter.' John followed her, chuckling at his own words, and Anna looked back at him shooting him a teasing look.

'Mummy! There's a sheep eating my wellington!' Johnny cried, trying to step away from the small animal, but it wouldn't do. The lamb was too interested in the rubber of his boot.

'It's all right, Johnny,' John walked toward the boy, kneeling down before him. 'She's just saying hello. It's a baby, see?'

'A baby?' Johnny asked, not so sure about this encounter now.

'Didn't you say you liked sheep? Why don't you pet her?' John insisted. 'Come on.'

'Yeah, I said that…' the boy patted the lamb gently on its head. The fur was rough against his hand, the twirls of the small animal tangling between his fingers.

'See, she just wanted a good rub.' He smiled at the boy, standing up to face the shepherd. 'Morning Mr Kent, I didn't know you brought your sheep here?'

'Morning children.' the old man said tilting his cap. 'Yes I do, every day. The grass is fresher here, they like it better. I reckon they like the sound of the water too. They run for it as soon as they arrive. Not during the winter though...during the winter they'd rather stay at home.'

'They're smart!' Anna remarked, and Mr Kent nodded in agreement.

'What you're doing in this side of the Isle? Seeing the sights?' he asked.

'Exactly,' John replied. 'I have never shown them to Anna and Johnny yet.'

'Ha! That's not fair, is it? You had them missing out...go along, don't forget to show them the caves,' the old man advised before looking at the boy who was now rather interested in the little lamb. Macbeth though, was not too impressed. 'Seems like Bug has made a new friend.'

'Bug?' Johnny asked the man.

'The girl over there…' Mr Kent pointed out. 'As long as you give her back before you go home.'

He laughed heartily after speaking. His beard almost covering his mouth and his worn out cap tilted forward. He had a staff in his hands, where he found his support, leaning onto it as he spoke.

'Don't worry, Mr Kent. We have no place to keep a sheep in our house,' John assured.

'I wouldn't mind having a sheep…' Johnny thought aloud as they walked ahead minutes later. Their next destination: The Caves.

'I'm sure you wouldn't,' Anna lifted her brow, looking over at her husband. John shook his head with a smile.

'She could sleep in my bed like Macbeth does sometimes. And I could walk her around the grass and all that,' the boy continued his reasoning.

'Soon enough you'll have a little brother or sister to take care of. I think you won't have time for sheep,' John told the boy, mussing his hair along with the cap atop his head.

'And believe me, it will be harder than what you think,' Anna stated. 'So, you Bateses were never farmers?'

'Not really...everyone here had animals at some point but my family was more into the sea and lighthouses.'

'I see…'

'Where should we eat?' John asked rubbing his noisy stomach. 'Here watching the waterfall or at the-'

'Can't you see the waterfall from the caves?' Anna asked before beginning to recite. ' _Reade sat there in moments of introspection, chewing on pieces of cheese and bread, a notebook always in hand in case his thoughts were worth writing. He could spy the waterfall, even hear it's noise, protected by the rock entrance of the cave. It gave him all the privacy he wanted, all the protection in case of rain. It gave him security and it made him feel more than just a boy. He felt all the humane notion that everyone always talked about but never knew of. He felt whole.'_

'Goodness me! Do you know my book by heart?'

'Only my favourite parts…'

John eyed her with suspicion. She had told him once her favourite part of his book was the whole thing. 'Yes, we can see the waterfall from the caves,' he said.

'Well then, I want to eat where I can see everything,' she decided enthusiastically and he couldn't believe how happy she seemed at the moment. For that he had to make her a promise.

'I promise you I'll bring you here everyday if you really want to.'

'Don't you worry, I will hold you to that.'

They walked for about ten minutes more, the path indeed getting more difficult now. There were rocks in the way, the caves now in sight, big entrances into the mountain, reminding her of something out of some fantasy book.

 **xxxx**

" _The Three Sisters stood high above the land, facing the horizon and sunrise. They were made by Mother Nature herself, from the same dust made of stars that had created this whole Isle. In each one of them there was a wonder. They had been blessed to entice._

 _The first Sister leads to the sea. Wide corridors of wind, a noise as immense as thunder. At the end there's an abyss to crashing waves and sharp rocks. Death is certain for those who are not careful. The only Sister who kills._

 _In the second there's a lake, freshwater lake, the water crystal clear. Of the three, she's the most sincere, for she only shows what she's got._

 _And the third Sister leads you to a dark nothingness, to the feeling of being forever lost, with no way out, but that is until you reach her end, and see a wonder of illuminated stones, lighting up the drawings and inscriptions made by men millenniums ago."_

 **xxxx**

'Let's sit down here and eat? I'm rather hungry!' Anna said, as they reached the entrances of the caves. The view from there breathtaking.

'Yes this is a wonderful place. Let's sit on the grass.' John suggested and they all sat down ready to enjoy the sandwiches Mrs Bates had prepare, with a fresh orange juice and some cheese aside.

'I am amazed with all of this.' Anna sighed as she chewed on her bread. Her eyes teary and a sense of familiarity running through her. 'It's as if I've been here before. I feel so at home.'

'This is your home, love.'

She nodded moved, taking another bite. 'What do you think, sweetheart?'

'I like it! I like ham with butter, a lot!' Johnny replied, as he ate, his eyes fixed on his food. Anna shook her head at her son.

'I'm talking about this place, you silly.'

'Oh! Yeah, it's great! I want to go in the caves. I want to investigate!' the boy replied.

'And we will go, don't worry, son,' John said. 'After we eat and rest for a bit.'

'I don't need to rest,' Anna told him. 'I'm feeling better than ever.'

'If you are sure. Although we shouldn't go in the first cave, it's dangerous and windy. It has an opening to the ocean down there...and it's dark enough for you not to see it at this time of the year.'

'I really want to see the third.' Anna spoke. 'I want to see the drawings and the stones.'

'Yes, the third one is more interesting. There are drawings there made by men from millions of years ago, did you know that, Johnny?'

'Really?' the boy asked in awe.

'Yes. You see, men from the past, they didn't know how to write yet, they hadn't invented such complex way of expression so they drew everything they saw. It was almost like their journal. They would keep their lives on the walls, they would count their herds, their people...that's how writing and mathematics was created. By a simple drawing on a cave wall. How fantastic is that? If they had never been so creative, so curious, we wouldn't be here today.'

'Whoa...une...unbelievable!' Johnny whispered.

'Ah! I was just talking about that the other week in class and you were not as half interested.' Anna shot her son a look and the boy shrugged his shoulders. 'Nevermind that now.'

'It's a different setting. He's more attentive here, when he's looking at it.'

'I reckon, but don't you dare defend him, John Bates.'

'All right, I won't. Not when you're watching.' John laughed with the boy and Anna couldn't help but roll her eyes. They were two of a kind indeed.

 **xxxx**

'Cake!' Johnny cheered as Mrs Bates handed Anna a knife. They had just sung 'Happy Birthday' after a light dinner and a session of tales about their day. The older woman had been excited to know how everything went and Anna hadn't been short on beautiful words about the place.

' _The cave…'_ Anna had had a hard time wording what she had seen. ' _It was magic. There was light coming from the walls. Lagoons of freshwater, as clean as I've never seen before. It was so quiet and peaceful in there and the drawings on the walls...it was overwhelming, just imaging that millions of years ago there were people painting those, not knowing that today we would be seeing it.'_

'No, no, no, your mummy shall be the first one to slice it,' Mrs Bates now told the boy as he tried to have a bit of the cake before it being served.

'But, the first slice is for you, of course.' Anna smiled, slicing the cake into big chunks. Mrs Bates chocolate cake was meant to be eaten like so.

'I made us some tea for a toast. Not the same as port but...I want us all to have the same.' The older woman glanced at her son and Johnny.

'That's quite all right, Mr Bates.' Anna smiled. 'Tea is much better than port.'

'That's what I think too!' her mother in law agreed. 'To Anna, who's been our saving grace.' She lifted her mug in the air and everyone did the same. 'To the new life she carries and to our family. May we prosper in good and bad and always stay united.'

'Amen!' John chuckled, before drinking his tea, daring a look at his darling wife. She was exactly what his mother had said. Their saving grace, their new hope as a family. Everything they had needed for years now.

'Mummy, I have a present for you too!' Johnny voiced as everyone drank their tea. His eyes twinkling with excitement.

'Do you really? Oh my!'

Johnny handed the package to his mother then. A brown paper wrap with a red ribbon holding it together. The note read; _'From Johnny to his mummy.'_

'Oh my! A book?!' Anna smiled rather intrigued, before looking at John for answers.

The cover of the book was drawn and painted by the boy's very own hands. A green dragon casting fire toward a silver shield. The person trying to avoid the beast's curse was a princess with a blue dress and golden hair. Atop her head there was a crown filled with red jewels, in her other hand a mighty sword. ' _Princess Anna and the Evil Dragon, a tale by John Bates Jr.'_ The title made Anna giggle, teary eyed.

'Mr Bates helped me a little bit. But only a little bit,' Johnny added.

'True. Johnny's an excellent writer,' John said, nodding with a proud look on his face.

'I can't wait to read it!' Anna exclaimed. The smile unable to fade from her lips. 'I know from the title I'm going to love it.'

'You can read it in bed!' Johnny suggested, happy by his mother's enthusiasm.

'Well, I think your mother would like it more if you read it to her first...I would like that too.' John proposed.

'That sounds wonderful!' Anna liked the idea. 'You can read it to us by the fireplace. It's warm and cozy there, the perfect setting for a good story.'

'Oh yes, I want to know all about the story too!' Mrs Bates spoke at last, and everyone laughed.

The night went by easily in the company of a princess, a dragon and a brave blacksmith, the forger of magic swords. Johnny read with vivacity, every word uttered with enthusiasm. The story was a simple one, but in the child's imagination there was also a message. Those who are strong never falter and those who seek revenge only find the true meaning of justice when they forgive. Maybe in a way, John had motivated the boy to write those lessons, but Johnny knew too well about second chances himself. He had been given one and he would never forget.

For a child sees deeper into one's soul, and loves more those who give him love, than those who only give him their blood. Life lessons he would preach one day.

* * *

 _ **Next Chapter:**_ _Thunder at night, crying by day._

 ** _Thank you for reading :)_**


	20. Reade Bates

_**A/N:** Good evening everyone! I'm back with another chapter and this one is promising ;) I hope you all enjoy it! _

_Thank you so much for your reviews! They mean so much :D Wish you all a great weekend xxx_

 _ **Disclaimer:** Same as chapter 1-19._

* * *

 **\- Reade Bates -**

November was known for wild stormy nights. For thunder and massive waves at the shore. It was still Autumn but Winter was upon them and there was an ancient tale that told the latter was an outcast child, insurgent and marked by a life of cold and shortage. But even for the worse of souls there's always hope, always another chance. In this house by the sea there was although an easiness. With every lightning there was also anticipation, excitement, joy.

In their bedroom there was a cot, laid with soft white linen and a handmade blanket on top. A Teddy bear already sat beside the tiny pillow, and little clothes and a pair of socks awaited the new arrival.

Those were the objects of Anna's attention now. The ever so small pair of socks, handmade by her mother in law. She smiled at them tenderly, one hand caressing her fully developed bump and a sour feeling from heartburn on her tongue. Ever so small and delicate...hard to believe soon enough they would be worn, and by a child of their own.

'I am eager to meet you too.' Her voice was soft, almost like a lullaby. The unborn child was still but her body was not. 'I can't wait for that.'

She felt it again then, after her words. A sharp stab like pain in her lower belly, and she knew in that moment her sixth sense was right. Their child would come during the storm. Their night would be a very long one.

'Mrs Bates?'

'Anna? Is everything all right?' Mrs Bates sat at the vanity table in her room, brushing her long hair that she always hid in a bun. Her nightdress already on and the clock on her nightstand hitting ten.

'I was wondering…' there it was, the pain again, and Anna had to support herself against the door frame. How many times had she felt it now? '...if you could call John in the garage. I...my waters broke.' Her voice came strangled as she tried to control her breathing. _It had begun._

'Oh!' the old woman looked down at Anna's dress, seeing the obvious. She nodded quickly, rising from the chair and walking to her daughter in law. 'All right, my dear. Now, don't be too nervous. Go to bed and lay down, I'm going to call John. Are you already feeling any pain?'

'A bit,' Anna replied with a white lie. She was in pain yes, but she knew the worse was yet to come. 'I felt contractions then but I didn't think anything would come of it. I've been feeling them this past week. The same happened with Johnny,' she continued, holding on her stomach as she was walked back to her room with Mrs Bates' help.

'Yes, that's all right then. I'll run and fetch John. What's he even doing there at this time?!'

'One of the...motors...he's trying to fix it.'

'Lay down, dear. Lay down. Boat motors?'

'He says he can fix any...motor,' Anna tried to explain. 'Don't...don't wake Johnny please. Let him sleep.'

'I do hope he sleeps,' Mrs Bates nodded, helping Anna climb into the bed. 'He won't be of any use fussing around. Now...we'll need towels to get under you, and water.'

'Call John first. I need him here,' Anna pleaded, looking toward the window to see the brewing storm hitting hard against the glass. That made her shiver, and although this was not the first time she had a baby, there was a nervous cold feeling running through her veins, at the same time that her body temperature began to rise. She knew then there wouldn't be anyone else there to help but Mrs Bates.

'I'm runnin'!' the old woman sped down the stairs as fast as she could. The tempest outside was stronger than ever. She reached the kitchen without breath, looking around trying to keep her mind in place.

Nodding to herself, she walked to the kitchen door, readying her lungs to shout out her son's name, but when she opened it she realised the immensity of the gale before her eyes. No way he would hear her from there.

'Mother?!' John rose from the stack of old crates he was sitting on, surprised to see his mother there. 'You're soaked to the bone.'

'Goodness me,' Mrs Bates brought one hand to her chest, her clothes wet, her shoes a puddle. 'It's hell coming down on us outside.'

'I was waiting for it to calm down so I could run to the house,' John reasoned before he could make sense of his mother's presence. Then it hit him! She wouldn't come if it wasn't something important. 'Oh God. What's happe-'

'It's coming, John. Your child is coming tonight.'

'I need to go get Mrs Kent!' he began to tremble, his heart beating nervously in his chest. He looked around and spotted the car key.

'You are mad, you can't!' His mother shook her head, holding him by his wrist. 'You ain't walking all the way to her house in this weather, you won't make it.'

'I'll drive,' he said.

'That's even worse!' she grabbed the car key before he could do it. 'You can't see a thing before your eyes.'

'Mother-'

'Listen here.' Mrs Bates' look was defiant as she faced him, one hand holding his chin in place so he couldn't run from paying attention. She saw her little John in that moment. A little boy with anxious eyes. 'You're coming with me and you're staying beside your wife and telling her everything will be all right. I'll do the rest.'

'But mother you are not-' He tried to escape from his mother's grip, but she only squeezed his jaw harder.

'I've helped six babies into this world, believe it or not, only one lost her mother. I think the odds are with me, son. And if something was wrong, Mrs Kent wouldn't be able to help much either. Now come! Anna's all alone up there. Put your brave face on and run!'

His mother was right, he knew it. There wasn't much a midwife could do, and certainly not old Mrs Kent. She was a midwife by experience, that was all. Her mother had had eleven children after her and she had helped. That's how she had become the delivering woman on this Isle. He would have to trust and believe. After all, it was this or nothing.

So he ran, as fast as his legs could move, through rain and wind and thunder, until he reached the house. He wrenched opened the kitchen door, his running never ceased, climbing the stairs to their room in blocks of two.

The cottage was piercing silent, the storm outside the only thing he could be hear. Abruptly, he stopped at their bedroom door and looked inside, taking a deep breath, readying himself for what was next. And what was next was in its own way beautiful, frightening and exciting.

Anna was in the middle of the bed, sitting up against the pillows, her face contorting in pain, her hands massaging her bump and her lips moving in a steady rhythm, mouthing words that didn't reach his ears.

'John!' she smiled relieved when she saw him staring back, his eyes tender and loving on her figure. He walked in, sat beside her on bed and one of his hands came immediately to find hers atop her stomach.

'How are you feeling, my love?' his voice was low and gentle, almost like a caress.

'I'm all right, don't worry. It's all part of it,' she reassured him, leaning her head against his shoulder. He seemed calm and confident, but she knew deep inside he was shaking to his core. She was herself, even though she tried so hard not to show.

'Are you in much pain?' John asked, his palm now pressed softly against her bump. Her breathing was more noisy and erratic by the minute. He felt her grab the sleeve of his shirt, twisting it urgently.

'A bit yes, it's getting worse.'

'Everything will be all right, Anna,' he said, his lips finding her temple.

'I know. I also know it was Mrs Bates who told you to say that.' He heard her giggle and he couldn't help but chuckle.

'Maybe, but I believe in it anyway.'

'We'll have our baby here, with us, soon, John.'

'And I can't wait for that. Anna?' He heard her moan, hiding her face on the crook of his neck, her legs unable to still.

'It's all right, it's just…' she tried to reassure him. 'It's getting stronger.'

'Of course it is, as it should.' Mrs Bates came in the room, the image of peace and calm, her arms stacked with towels. 'I'm going to prepare everything now, she still has sometime to go. John, go down and put the to water boiling, will you? I need both hot and cold water.'

'Maybe, if I ran, I can get Mrs Kent in time?' he suggested once again, but even he knew there was no way he could go outside now.

'Don't be silly!' his mother replied, placing the towels at the edge of the bed. 'By the time you'd arrive the babe would be cryin'.'

'She's right, John, please,' Anna begged, holding John's hand tight. 'Don't even dare thinking about driving.'

'I won't,' he gave in with a sigh, squeezing her palm against his. Another clap of thunder was heard, strong and loud, with it came more unsparing rain.

'All I need is you and Mrs Bates. That's all I need, Joh- Oh God!' Anna gasped in pain again. Contractions were getting closer.

'What are you waiting for to get the water boilin'?!' Mrs Bates told her son, and John rose from the bed immediately, placing a soft kiss on Anna's hair. 'And you, my dear. Don't you fret. I promise you I can handle this,' John rushed downstairs then.

'I trust you, Mrs Bates. I'm not worried.' Anna assured her with a smile. She knew there was no one better than her mother in law for urgent times.

'That's good.' She smiled at Anna, running a hand through the younger woman's loose strands of hair. 'Do you think it's getting close?'

'I think so.'

 **xxxx**

'You!' His mother smacked him on the shoulder after calling him twice. The water was almost boiling on the stove and John stood there, looking at it, waiting. 'The more you stare the slower it gets going.'

'That's only an old wive's tale. It will take the same time with me looking or...what?' he felt his mother's gaze, telling him to stop babbling. Telling him she knew the true meaning behind his apparent stillness. He sighed when he faced her, and didn't try to hide what he truly felt. 'I just...I feel like my heart is going to jump out of my chest.'

'Only get a racing heart…' Mrs Bates voice was soft. 'You men have it easy. Look, it's boiling.'

'Oh yes!'

'You will be a wonderful father, John. As you are to Johnny,' she spoke again, watching as he lifted the pot from the stove.

'Do you really believe that?' he asked, suddenly unsure. His doubts always found a way to take over his thoughts. 'A little over year ago I was nothing, and now, I have everything. I wonder if I'll be able to manage it all. If I deserve all of-'

'Aren't you happy?' His mother took the pot from his hands and looked at him seriously.

'Oh God. I couldn't be happier!'

'Well then, why so many doubts? Why wouldn't you deserve all of this if you made it happen? You and Anna.'

'I was never happy for too long.' He managed a small, weak smile.

'Get used to it then. You have Anna now, and soon you'll have a child too. You are going to be a family man, son, for that you have to be strong and confident, as much as you can.'

'Yes. You're right,' he nodded, a little more convinced. 'What else do you need?'

'First, I want you to check on Johnny, be sure he's asleep and then your wife will need you right beside her. When morning comes, you'll have your baby in your arms, son. My grandchild. Oh, I can't wait!'

Mrs Bates clapped her hands together excited, and all her positivity made John feel so much better. She was right, as always. He had Anna now. He had palpable happiness that he could reach for at any moment, just to prove it to be real. He had Anna and they were about to have a child. Everything was going to be all right.

 **xxxx**

'You are doing a wonderful job, Anna. Wonderful!' Mrs Bates voice never sounded anything but encouraging, and now, hours later, she was as enthusiastic as ever. Never she thought this could possibly happen, to help in the labour of her own grandchild. To witness everything from the very first moment.

'Did you hear that, love?' John whispered into Anna's ear, as one of his hands ran a damp cloth along her sweaty brow, and he felt her smile between intakes of breath. 'Our baby will be here soon. Breathe in, love. Breathe.'

For him, this was taking too long. His Anna was in pain and he hated it. Her face was red and her hair was now sticking to her cheeks and her neck. If only this would come to an end soon. He was anxious, excited, scared. All he wanted was for this to be over now.

'I'm tired,' Anna spoke, her voice weak and scratchy, her arms and legs felt almost numb. One of her hands grasped at the headboard and the other held one of his, and she could swear all the muscles of her body were answering on their own accord.

'I know, my love. I know.' John pursed his lips worriedly, his free hand drawing the damp hair away from her face. 'It will be over soon. You are almost there, love.'

'Come on, Anna. Push. You can't stop now. Your baby needs your help. Come on!' Mrs Bates insisted, pressing her hands against Anna's knees to encourage. Her words seemed to work, when the younger woman began to push, as soon as she felt that twinge of pain travelling through her body all over again.

'Oh my! It's crowning!' the older woman announced with tears in her eyes. 'Oh goodness me! I can't believe it.'

'Did you hear that, darling? You're nearly there,' John said, his tears beginning to run freely down his cheeks, unable to hold back his feelings in this moment. The look of anticipation on his mother's face only added to his own.

'Just one more time, Anna! Just one more time.'

Anna shut her eyes tight after hearing Mrs Bates' words, gathering all the strength that remained in her body, and squeezing John's hand she began to push again. He knew what was happening then, and he couldn't help but join her, helping to support her head and somehow trying to lend some of his own strength to his wife.

'You can do it, love. I believe in you,' he told her. The veins at her temples showing and her face turning bright red. John was amazed by his wife's strength. Not one single cry was heard. Not one single scream. All those had been muffled before they could reach her lips, and the next moment of intense pain was quickly replaced by a deep breath of relief and a blessed peace. A moment that had come as a wave, invading the room at once. The calm after the storm. He glanced toward the window for a second and it was morning. The rain had stopped and the clouds were spreading apart.

'Come here, John.' His mother called for him shortly after and he abided, dragging himself to the end of the bed.

'Here, hold your child, son.' She placed the small babe in his arms, and instinctively he brought it up against his chest, rocking it gently and taking in its light weight. Blood stained his shirt but he couldn't care less. He just couldn't stop staring.

Nothing in his whole life had prepared him for this moment. None of the feelings that ran through him had been felt before. They were somehow familiar but at the same time something so strange and foreign, like a place in dreams that doesn't really exist. Like Anna had been. The way the glimpse of her put him at ease and at the same time made him feel restless, this was how it was now. And above all a joy so great he would never able to express it fairly on paper. A love that had been born long before this meeting. ' _Redhead.'_ was all he could say now, as Mrs Bates cleaned the baby's face, and that's when the crying began. An intense crying and shaking; small, closed fists searching for warmth in the air.

'Redhead?' Anna questioned, surprised, itching to have the child in her arms.

'Wrap the blanket around the baby, John,' his mother advised, and John did as she told, ever so lovingly. His eyes finding his wife's at once; Anna's look one of anticipation as she smiled questioningly at him.

'It's a boy,' John tried to suppress a sob but he failed miserably when he chanced another look at his son. 'A boy,' he repeated, joining his wife again and placing the baby in her stretched out arms.

Anna held the child protectively, resting him against the warmth of her chest, and there the baby settled peacefully, glancing at his mother for a second, before closing his eyes again, ready to sleep into this new world of his. 'We have a son, John,' her voice caught on her throat when she felt her husband placing a tender kiss at her temple, and she quit speaking. Instead she took in her son, admiring every inch of his image.

Their baby had fine red hair, as John had said, and that was a big surprise for her. A surprise that had put a big smile on her face. He had long legs and chubby arms, a tiny nose and round face. His lips were pursed in an unamused manner and Anna couldn't help but think how much of that belonged to John's mannerisms.

'Hello, my darling boy,' she cooed at him, but the little one didn't bother to move. At her side, John was admiring the sight of his wife and son, his finger touching the boy's cheek ever so gently.

'How did this happen?' Anna asked a moment later with a teary smile. Happiness overwhelming her as she ran her hand along the crown of the baby's head.

'I wasn't expecting you to have a redhead!' Mrs Bates chuckled as she folded the dirty towels to take downstairs. 'I wasn't expecting that at all.'

'Well, father's family all had red hair, didn't they?' John said, his eyes never leaving his son's features. He was truly under a spell.

'Indeed they did. You were the only one who was born with that dark mane of yours,' his mother answered back, wiping a small tear that had stayed behind in the corner of her eye.

'It's back in the family then,' Anna giggled. 'I'm glad. He's perfect...it'll fit the name I have for him.'

John looked at Anna questioningly, the way she spoke making him teary again. Did she mean what he thought she meant?

'I want our son to be called Reade, after his grandfather, if you don't mind.'

The sun began to shine then and a shaft of bright light came piercing into the room. The storm was over almost like a magic. A new day and a new life, and John felt overwhelmed with love. For his wife, for this baby, for Johnny and for his mother. For all the people he already loved so much.

'Reade Bates,' he whispered proudly. 'Reade Bates.'

* * *

 ** _Next Chapter:_** _The joy of a new life._

 ** _Thank you for reading :)_**


	21. Sleepless Night

_**A/N:** Hello everyone! Here I am again after a million years... I'm so sorry for the delay but I really couldn't finish this chapter sooner. I hope you enjoy it :) _

**_Disclaimer:_** _Same as chapter 1-20._

* * *

 **\- Sleepless Night -**

Anna was so completely happy.

It was in moments like this that her mind took her back in time. Back to a life so different than what it was today. She sat up on their bed, her baby son sleeping peacefully in her arms, ginger hair sprouting on top of his head, her husband right beside her, with his gentle touches and loving gazes and a smile that could never be erased from his lips.

All this made her think of when Johnny was born. The pain she had felt in her heart, the feeling of loneliness she thought would always travel with her. Emptiness when she was supposed to feel the best. But not anymore. She had been able to leave it in the past, and today she knew that those memories were as important, to always be grateful and not to take anything for granted.

The sun shone brightly on this morning in November, brushing away the remains of the storm from the night before. And as unusual as this weather was, no one could complain. Sunlight never lasted too long in this place.

'I always imagined him blond, or even bald.' John's voice came as a whisper, almost too scared to break their peaceful bubble. His eyes although, were eager, admiring every inch of this new life they had created, while his fingers traced the curve of the baby's cheek. 'I never figured on a redhead.'

'Me neither...I didn't think it was possible. And I didn't know I wanted a red haired son until now.' Anna giggled happily, looking over at her husband. 'I've never been so happy. Never felt so… complete. I have everything I ever wanted.'

'You will always have everything, my love.' He assured her with a gentle kiss at her temple. 'If everything depends on me, you will have it.'

'I love you, John. So much.'

'And I love you, Anna.'

His thumb came to her cheek, to clean the trace of a tear, and he couldn't help but kiss her there. To show her that all her tears would always be supported, in good and bad times. That his hands would never show her anything but love and tenderness.

Reade shifted in his mother's arms, and they both looked down at their baby.

'I want Johnny to meet Reade,' Anna cooed.

'Me too.'

'And here he is! Right out of bed, the cheeky monkey.' Mrs Bates came in the room with Johnny by the hand. His eyes were still clouded with sleep, but it didn't take too long for the boy to smile at his mother.

'Come here, my darling.' Anna called. 'Come and meet your brother.'

'A brother?' Johnny said excitedly, rubbing his eyes awake. 'That's what I wanted!'

'Well, I am glad you got him then. Come here.' John chuckled, helping the boy onto the bed and placing him on his lap.

'What do you think?' Anna asked, running a hand through the boy's messy blond hair, tears beginning to gather in her eyes again. She couldn't quite believe in the life she had now. A loving husband, two sons, a woman that was so much more than a mother to her.

'His hair looks like carrots!' Johnny giggled, bringing his hands to cover his mouth.

'It does, indeed.' John nodded.

'What's his name?'

'Reade.' Anna replied. 'Reade John Bates.' She shared a look with her husband.

'I know that name, why?' The boy frowned in deep thought.

'That was my father's name,' John explained. 'It means redhead in Scottish. I reckon it suits him very well, don't you think?'

'I like it!' Johnny smiled.

'Do you want to hold him?' Anna offered, watching as Johnny's eyes widened with anticipation. He could only nod as his mother gently placed the baby in his arms.

'I'll help you.' John guided the boy's hands. 'Here, like this. Isn't it nice?'

'Yes…' Johnny whispered, afraid to move or make a sound that would upset his baby brother. 'We are three boys now. We will teach him loads of stuff, won't we, Dad?'

'We will, son. We will.' John nodded, teary eyed, aware of the meaning of the boy's simple words. He had never been called Dad before, and now he had two sons.

And in that moment, Reade opened his eyes, and the two brothers faced each other for the first time.

 **xxx**

'I don't like this; I don't...why don't you stay in bed instead?' John complained as he adjusted the pillows behind Anna's back, trying to make her seat on the sofa as comfortable as possible.

The fireplace was burning low, warming up the front room and making it so cozy and welcoming. On the floor, Johnny played with his tin soldiers, while Macbeth slept soundly beside him. The clock on the wall marked six in the afternoon, and Mrs Bates came in carrying a tray with biscuits and tea.

'John, please, I want to be here you all of you.' Anna said for what seemed like the millionth time, adjusting the baby against her chest. 'And it's warmer here.'

'Let her be!' Mrs Bates spoke, resting the tray on the side table, before sitting beside the young mother, a roll of yarn now in her hands. 'If she feels good... I was on my feet an hour after you were born and cooked breakfast the next day. Stop it.'

John rolled his eyes.

'It's all right, John, please. I feel fantastic.'

'If you say so…' John sat down in his chair, a little more convinced. But that wouldn't last long, when the dog woke up a moment later and began to sniff the air around him. Suddenly, he rose, eyeing Anna and the baby on the sofa, and slowly he walked to them filled with curiosity.

'Macbeth wants to meet Reade.' Johnny said with a smile and John stood up at once, ready to shoo the dog away.

'Be careful, what if he-.'

'Stop fussing, boy!' the older woman scolded. 'He's a dog, not a beast. Your child is not made of glass.'

Anna laughed at her mother in law's words, while watching the dog's reaction attentively. Macbeth was gentle with his sniffs, and she leaned forward just a bit. 'What do you think, Macbeth?' She asked, and her reply was a lick on the baby's tiny hand. 'Aw look, Reade, you've made a new friend.'

The baby yawned lazily before settling back, and Macbeth rested his big head on her knee where it would stay until Anna moved again.

'See.' Mrs Bates lifted her brow at her son.

'I know, but,' John sighed, sitting back in his chair, 'Reade's so small and fragile.'

'He's not that small.' Anna said. 'Johnny was so much smaller.'

'He's a big lad! Almost as big as you were.' Mrs Bates added.

'He has long legs…' Anna smiled, running her fingertips along Reade's forehead. 'And your brow.'

'Do you think so?' John dragged his chair toward the sofa and leaned down to take a better look at his son, a proud blush staining his cheeks. Anna couldn't help but giggle.

'When he started crying it was as if John was being born all over again. That same frown. Bless him. But don't worry, babies change a lot, I'm sure he will have some of your features too,' the older woman reassured her daughter in law.

'I'm not worried about it. I want him to look like John.'

'Well, I always imagined him looking like you,' John stated, but deep inside he couldn't be happier with the course of this conversation.

'I look like mummy already; Reade can look like daddy,' Johnny concluded, his tin soldiers lined up and ready for yet another war.

'Exactly.' John laughed heartily, and the two women joined, and between hungry cries and dirty nappies, Reade's first day would come to an end in a blink of an eye.

That's why happy days seem to never last long. People are too busy being joyful and carefree to notice anything else. The clock is there, ticking away but no one really cares, no one bothers to lose their precious time to look at it. And only when night has fallen, and the eyes begin to weigh, one realises that time, indeed, is always moving.

And that's what happened when John looked over at the clock on Johnny's nightstand, and he couldn't quite believe this day was almost over. He closed the book he had been reading to the boy and sighed deeply to himself, a wave of emotions rushing through him. It seemed unreal, his life, today, everything. He felt almost numb. A good kind of numb mixed with excitement and an energetic tiredness.

The young boy was finally sound asleep, and John brought the sheets up to his neck, tucking him in and running a gentle hand through his hair. The candle was out with a blow and in the darkness of the child's room, he let himself sink into his own skin. It was the first time that day John had actually thought. Actually let himself listen to his own mind, and what yesterday was only a dream, today was his reality, and for that he was thankful. For that he was the happiest man alive.

'He was almost too excited to sleep,' He whispered, walking in their bedroom and closing the door behind him. The sight he met silenced him at once. Anna was sitting up against the headboard feeding Reade. Her hair was neatly done in a simple braid and their son was nursing eagerly. John approached them then, and sat down beside her, watching. The little boy had his eyes open. Clear eyes, almost like water. They would fade into green one day.

'That's why you took so long?'

'Yes. And what about you two? How are you feeling?'

'Wonderful. He's a hungry little man.' Anna smiled down at the boy for a moment, and when she looked up at her husband he was smiling tenderly at her with that beautiful grin spreading across his lips. 'What?'

'You have never looked so lovely and full of grace.' John said. 'My father once told me that...I was no more than a boy; he said… _'the woman you love will never look as beautiful as when she's the mother of your child.'_ He was right.'

Anna shook her head with a giggle. 'I reckon Mr Reade Bates was a sweet talker just like you are.'

'You ought to ask my mother that.'

'No need to. She told me all about it.'

John nodded. 'Oh! I have something for you.'

'For me?'

'Well…' He stood from the bed and walked toward the desk, opening one of the drawers. 'Not exactly I think…for you but not for you.'

'What are you talking about?' she asked him, confused.

'I wrote it down. The Prince's tale.' He showed her a small book as he sat beside her again. The cover was light brown with drawings and the title; ' _The Tale Of A Conqueror Prince.'._ 'I wrote it all down. I thought I should, so we can read it to our son. Johnny helped with the drawings. There's one in every three pages, and he made me promise he could read it to the baby too.'

'It's beautiful, John!' Anna smiled teary as he flipped the pages of the book for her. 'I thought you had been working on your book? Was it this?'

'I worked on this now and then; it's not that long. My book...it will take some time still, to be ready. But don't worry. You'll be the first one to read it once I'm finished.'

'I very much hope so...Oh, he fell asleep,' she said softly, looking down at the baby on her breast.

'It was a big day for him, I suppose,' John said grinning down at their son. 'And aren't you tired as well?'

'I am a little, yes. I slept until lunch and I did fall asleep on the sofa too.'

'Well, you didn't sleep at all last night.'

'You didn't either.' She shot him a look.

'But I don't love to sleep as much as you do.'

Anna chuckled. 'That's true... I don't want to put him in the cot yet; I don't want to be away from him. Look at his pout. He's so sweet.'

'I may be a little biased, but he's beautiful,' John sighed contently. 'I can't believe we've made this...it's unbelievable.'

Anna nodded as he spoke, her finger gently caressing the baby's chin. 'Go change for bed,' she told John as she placed Reade in the middle of their bed. 'We'll be waiting for you.'

John nodded with a smile, kissing the crown of her head before leaving the room. He washed quickly, and changed into his pyjamas, but when he walked back into the room again, both mother and child were sound asleep. His space in bed almost too small for him to fit, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

As carefully as he could, he got into bed, pulling the sheets over the three and settled in as best as he could, watching over Reade and Anna as they slept. Yes, that's how he wanted this night to be, and although he was tired, he chose to enjoy this moment, to admire his son and his wife. For moments like these, for a man like him, were as satiating as water in the desert. He had walked in the sun and pain and rocky paths all his life and now, that he finally had all of this, he would hold it to himself.

The best sleepless night he had ever had.

* * *

 _ **Next Chapter:** An unexpected visitor. _


	22. The Other One

_**A/N:** Hello, hello my friends! Hope you all enjoy this chapter. It was so fun to write! :D _

_Wish you all a great weekend!_

 _ **Disclaimer:** Same as chapter 1-21. _

* * *

**\- The Other One -**

She was awakened by thunder. Another storm brewing in the night. The sound of rain suddenly coming to her ears, and when she opened her eyes she saw nothing but darkness against the faint light of a candle burning. Her hand roamed their bed immediately and upon its emptiness her heart began to race.

'No...shhh, it's all right.' The sound of his voice was heard then, soft and gentle, and she was able to relax again, trying to spot his figure in the dark.

'John?'

'Oh. You're awake?'

'Yes, I am now. Is everything all right?' Anna sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes, the shadow of her husband cradling their baby boy against his shoulder coming clearer.

'Yes.' John replied. 'He was just fussing a little and I didn't want you to wake up again.'

'It's fine, John. I'm suppose to wake up when he's fussy.'

'Well, not if he's not hungry.' He smiled before placing a kiss atop the baby's head. 'And he can't be, can he?'

'Not really, he ate...an hour ago?'

'Not even that. I think he's just scared because of the storm.'

'Maybe,' Anna nodded, leaning back against the headboard to admire the scene before her. The stuff of what dreams were made of, or at least, her kind of dreams. 'How does it feel then? To be a father?' she asked a moment later.

'It feels the best thing ever, I can tell you that... He doesn't really cry, does he?'

'I think he'll be a very good boy. Mrs Bates told me that you didn't really cry much either. Just fussed and whimpered. Maybe he takes after you,' Anna said.

'I've always been the silent type, that's true.'

'That's one of the things I love about you.' Her words made him smile, and though the light was dim, she could see the brightness of his eyes. 'You are meaningful, Mr Bates. You only speak when something inside moves you to do so.'

She heard him chuckle, and she knew he wouldn't agree with her, but whatever he said, whatever reason he gave her not to believe, she would always stand up for it. 'You didn't know me in my teen years. Or when I was in the army.'

'I don't wish to,' she told him. 'I love the way you are now, the man who I fell in love with. The wonderful father I can already see that you are, since you met Johnny. There are certain things in a man that are visible right away, and one of those things is their loving nature toward children. You've always been a natural.'

'Maybe I was preparing myself for this, unconsciously.'

'Maybe you were. As I said, sometime ago, my Mr Bates is this man before me right now, and not the one before that. We change, we learn and try again, and I know I will love you even more in ten years, twenty years…'

He loved when she said things like that, and that beautiful grin of pride on her lips. As much as compliments had always been hard for him to take, and as much as he still tried to wash them away whenever she spoke like this, he enjoyed them. He loved to hear about the things that had made her fall in love with him. The things that made him so hers. So different from the John of others.

He walked to the cot on Anna's side of the bed then, Reade sleeping soundly against his chest, his small pouty mouth half opened.

'Let's see if he'll settle now…' John spoke as he placed the baby inside the wooden crib, tucking the little boy in as comfortably as possible, and kissing his forehead ever so softly. 'You, go back to sleep. He'll probably be awake in a few hours again.'

'And you?' Anna asked, laying down back in the bed. 'Don't you sleep? I know you haven't been sleeping properly.'

'I've been sleeping well enough, don't worry,' John whispered as he got into bed, his hands immediately finding her body underneath the sheets. 'Now, come here.' He held her close, and she went willingly, burying her face on the crook of his neck and inhaling deeply on the scent of her husband. 'In twenty years I will ask you how much do you still love me...whatever your answer is, I will love you more.'

She scoffed against his skin and he couldn't help but chuckle, kissing the top of her head as he did so. 'Sleep, John.'

'Yes, yes…'

 **xxxx**

'Oh! I am starving!' Anna sat down at the table for breakfast, rubbing her hands together. The food was smelling delicious. There was fried toast and soft boiled eggs, tea, coffee and milk at choice.

'I reckon you are, feeding that little man all the time.' The older woman spoke, her voice cheery and proud as she placed the plates on the table. Johnny was already sitting in his usual spot, his eyes wide open deciding what to eat first.

'He slept five hours tonight, isn't that marvelous?' Anna said, satisfied, feeling her husband's hand squeezing her shoulder gently. He sat down next to her.

'Aw, bless him,' Mrs Bates smiled, filling Johnny's glass with warm milk. 'Maybe you'll be lucky enough to get that every night. Nothing worse than needing rest and having a babe crying every hour.'

'Did John do that?' Anna frowned. 'I thought he was a quiet one.'

'Nah, not my John. I would wake him up myself most of the times. I was young and I thought if I didn't he would starve.' The old woman told, shaking her head with a chuckle. 'Silly me. But when I did he would eat until he passed out anyway. My sister in law, on the other hand, didn't sleep a night for almost a year. Her son would cry every hour, night and day. Wouldn't settle for the world. She got so tired and miserable she lost her milk and with it, a bunch of hair as well.'

'Goodness me!' John exclaimed.

'You think it's easy to be a mother, but as beautiful as it sounds, most of the times is worse than the picture people paint,' Mrs Bates said, sitting down with the others. Everyone began to eat.

'Did I cry a lot, mummy?' Johnny asked, his mouth full of toast and butter.

'Chew first, darling...no, you didn't. A little more than Reade, so far, but nothing too bad. You were a little angel.'

'Of course he was,' John added, winking at the boy. Johnny loved John's little remarks about his good behaviour. He felt proud. 'What about the new teacher? Is she as nice as mummy?'

'She's not new, she's just a replacement,' the boy corrected. 'She's all right. She yells sometimes, and she beat Edgar with her stick. She's got a stick. Not a walking stick though, just a bad one. And she has a mole between her eyes.'

'Johnny, you have to behave, you know that,' Anna warned, knowing exactly all this talking would lead somewhere else.

'I do!' The child insisted. 'But she's...she's a wicked witch.'

'A what?' John asked with a grin already playing on his lips.

'A wicked witch. Tim said so. He said his cousin told him a friend saw her killing a black rooster and doing some dances. Like…' Johnny flailed his arms in the air, mimicking what he had been told. The two women couldn't help but laugh. '...those dances.'

'Tim's cousin had a friend who told him?' John repeated, chuckling at the boy's gestures. 'I see…'

'Yes. And he ain't the lying kind, Tim said.'

'If Tim said,' John nodded, quite serious. Another thing Johnny loved about him, the consideration he had for everything the boy said, even if it was as far-fetched as this, or even if he only pretended to believe it.

'Tim's cousin also said a mole between the eyes means she can see the world of the dead. That's what he said,' Johnny continued.

'Tim's cousin knows and sees a lot,' Anna commented, trying to look impressed.

'No, this is another cousin,' Johnny informed. 'Tim has a bunch of 'em.'

'But that's true. What Tim's other cousin says…' All eyes were on John's now, and even his mother was surprised. 'At least, that was a rumour when I was a boy.'

'Was it really?' Anna asked.

'Yes. Jacob, one of my classmates, once drew a mole between his eyes so he could see the dead too. Do you remember Jacob, Mother?'

''Course I remember that son of a dog.' Mrs Bates rolled her eyes. 'He would wee under my kitchen window and my flowers every single weekend. I caught John there doing the same one night.'

'I shouldn't have said anything,' John whispered, shutting his eyes with a sigh. Another one of his childhood mischiefs was about to be told.

'It was winter, freezing cold, had just been snowing and I was brewing some tea when I hear this one crying outside,' Mrs Bates began, pointing to her son.

'Crying?' Anna looked curiously at John.

'Crying, indeed. I ran out off the kitchen door to see Mister John Bates himself with his trousers down to his knees and well.. _.it_ in his hands. He had gotten stuck in the snow and couldn't move. Frozen snot dripping out of his nose, in tears. All the others ran off, laughing about it when they saw me.'

'You came outside yelling and cursing everyone,' John added to the tale, his cheeks red and ears burning, but he couldn't help smile thinking back on it.

'I was cursing, all right! Weeing all over the place like wild dogs? Those chumps.' His mother rolled her eyes, still quite upset over the whole thing, after all these years.

'Did you punish him?' Anna managed to ask, her eyes wet from laughing. Johnny joined his mother, giggling and trying to picture a young Mr Bates, around his age maybe, peeing outside and being caught.

'I didn't have time for that! I had to run a hot bath before he froze to death, but I made sure to scrub him hard enough.'

'You made sure of doing that, indeed. Also, you said that my children would be my punishment one day.' John said, trying to gain his mother's heart, now that he actually had a son.

'Well, I take it back now, of course, but you will have some mischief to handle too. That's what children do, and that's when we remember what our parents went through,' Mrs Bates repiled, finishing the soft boiled egg on her plate.

'She's cursed you as well.' John whispered to Anna, who was still laughing at him, his hand grazing against her thigh and a teasing wink playing on his features. 'By the way, did you end up writing your brother?'

'I did,' Anna nodded as she sip at her tea, trying to control her breathing now. 'I sent it yesterday.'

'Oh! I didn't know.'

'I thought I had told you. I did. I told him about the baby, I said I would.'

'He's going to be pleased,' John smiled.

'I hope so.'

In that moment, there was a loud knock at the kitchen door, that took everyone by surprise.

'Oh! Who's this?' Mrs Bates asked, shouting.

'It's us, Mrs Bates!' Ailsa replied with another shout, her voice muffled from the outside.

'Ha! Come in, then. The door's opened!' the older woman invited.

'Morning, everyone,' Jeph greeted, walking in with Bonnie in his arms. The little girl smiled widely at everyone, showing a pink gum with growing teeth. Her hair was curling at the ends, blonde as her sister's, but she had the dark eyes that had belonged to her mother. Two children followed, running past the man. One was Ailsa and the other was Tim, and they only stopped when they reached Johnny at the table.

'Oh goodness! She's getting bigger by the week,' Anna said, stretching her arms out to hold an eager Bonnie. She sat the girl on her legs at the table and the child couldn't contain an excited squeal.

'Sit down for breakfast!' John offered.

'Thank you, John, but we ate at home. Ailsa insisted to come. She wanted to meet the baby, and I do too. Also to congratulate Anna.' Jeph looked over at Anna with a smile. 'I hope John has sent my good wishes.'

'He did, Jeph, thank you.'

'We found Tim on the way here and he wanted to join us too,' the man added.

'Are you hungry, Tim?' Mrs Bates asked.

'I am rather,' the boy answered, looking at the food on the table. He wasn't really, but he was not a boy to be turning down such offer, especially when there were boiled eggs!

'Johnny was telling us about the new teacher,' Anna remarked, bouncing Bonnie in her legs.

'She's not new, just a replacement,' Tim said, one egg down. 'She's a witch, my cousin's friend told. He seen her doing stuff.'

'I see,' Anna nodded, looking over at her husband.

'Also she's got a big, black mole between her eyes. It has a hair sticking out and all. Bleh.' Tim said grimacing, and the other children wrinkled their noses in disgust. 'Can see the dead from there, she can. My other cousin told me so. He knows about that stuff. My aunt does things with her pots. He knows.' One more egg down.

 **xxxx**

'Reade is so sweet. I love his hair!' Ailsa said looking down at the little boy.

The children all sat around the couple's bed, Reade on display right in the centre, Anna sitting down against the headboard holding Bonnie. The one week old baby was wide awake, looking around and trying to get used to the amount of staring. He was quiet and frowned every time he heard someone speak.

'Did you eat loads of carrots while he was in your tummy?' Tim asked. 'Mum says that's why there are redheads.'

Anna laughed. 'I did but that's not the reason. Mr Bates' father had red hair, so Reade takes after him on that.'

'Oh! I've got to tell that to my mum...is that why you called him Reade then!'

'More because that was also Mr Bates' father's name, but yes, it does suit him perfectly.' Anna said. 'What you think, Bonnie? Do you like Reade?'

Bonnie flailed her hands energetically at the baby and Anna let her crawl to him. When the girl reached Reade she sat down and chanced a look at her father, who was standing watching over them, together with John.

'Gentle, Bonnie.' Jeph said.

'Why don't you pet him?' Anna offered, running a gentle hand across her son's chest, showing the little girl how to do it. Bonnie smiled then, mimicking the young mother's gesture, and ever so slowly, she touched the baby for a short moment, before bringing her hands to her face and squeal excitedly against her palms.

'Oh! You are such a sweet girl, Bonnie. Good job.' Anna praised the little girl.

'I am sure they will be great friends when they're a little older,' John added with a smile.

'Just like me and Johnny!' Ailsa voiced enthusiastically.

'Exactly,' John nodded.

'My mum's got another baby in her tummy too. She just got it the other day.' Tim informed. 'Maybe he can be Reade and Bonnie's friend too, and they are three just like we are.'

'Oh, that would be wonderful!' Anna exclaimed with a giggle. She had missed having children all around her, telling her extraordinary things in their innocent ways. That's why she had chosen to be a teacher. Children never let her down.

'Mother will be too excited about another birth,' John spoke a moment after.

'Women always love when other women are expecting,' Jeph added with a laugh. The traces of mourning were gone from the man's face, although at times they would surface, but only to himself, deep within his skin.

'And you will let her be, because she did wonderfully with Reade,' Anna shot her husband a look.

'Oh, I will. No problem.' John gave in.

'What is it, my darling?' Anna cooed down at the baby when Reade began to whimper softly, kicking his legs. His eyes searched for his mother and when he heard her voice he let go a low cry. 'I think he's hungry,' she said, picking him up and bringing him to her chest. He began to rub his face against her breast. Indeed he was hungry.

'Very well then,' Jeph spoke. 'Children, why don't we go downstairs, huh? Anna and Reade need peace and quiet now.'

'I heard Mrs Bates was about to bake a cinnamon and honey cake.' John lured the children, sure they wouldn't be able to resist.

'Yes!' Tim and Johnny cheered, jumping off the bed and running out of the room. Ailsa stayed behind.

'Let's go Ailsa.' The girl's father insisted, taking Bonnie in his arms.

'I want to stay.' Ailsa pleaded, chancing a look at Anna.

'It's all right, Jeph. She can stay.'

 **xxxx**

'Does it hurt?' The girl's curious eyes watched as the baby nursed greedily.

'It doesn't... it feels good,' the young mother said, smiling down at her child. Her fingertips running along his cheek, feeling so overwhelmed. She would never get used to nursing a child. She never did with Johnny. It was always a special moment, always something she looked forward to do.

'Do you feel him drinking?' Ailsa's questioning continued, but Anna didn't mind. She remembered being a little girl and wondering about babies. And in Ailsa's condition, she had no mother to tell her about such things anymore. She would gladly answer to all of the girl's questions.

'I do. Can you hear him suckling?'

'Yes…' The girl nodded. 'Bonnie has a bottle, but she eats soup too now.'

'That's good! Does she like it?'

'She does now, but at first she would spit it out. It was so funny.' The girl giggled, bringing a hand to her mouth, before continuing to speak. 'I want to have a bunch of babies when I grow up.'

Anna smiled. 'Do you really?'

'And I want to have a redhead like Reade too.'

'Well...you'll have to marry a man with redhead blood in his family then,' Anna explained.

'Yes…' Ailsa thought for a moment. 'Mr Bates has redhead blood, right? From his father.'

'He does.'

'But Johnny hasn't, does he? Because he's not his real son.'

'No, Johnny has blonde hair blood in his family. Brown too.'

'I don't think I'm having a redhead then,' Ailsa pursed her lips.

'Whyever not?'

'Because Johnny doesn't have it in his blood. It's all right, though.'

Anna looked at the girl, confused. 'What do you mean? You are going to marry Johnny?'

'Yes, I will. Not now though. In like...fifty years?'

'You are very sure of that.' The young mother chuckled at the girl's confidence. 'Why do you think it's going to happen that way?'

'I just know,' the girl assured, watching as Reade began to slow down on his suckling. 'Do you mind that?'

'I certainly don't! I would be very honoured if that happened. For my son to marry such a sweet girl like you.'

'Good. That's good.'

For a moment Anna believed the girl, for the steadiness in her voice and the relaxed way she spoke. Well, who knew what the future would bring? Maybe some people already know their fate, even before they know themselves.

 **xxxx**

'You won't believe the conversation I had with Ailsa this morning.'

The day had gone by fast. The children had spent the day in, wanting to catch up on their games and drawing sessions, and John had just arrived from taking them home. It was around nine and it had just began to rain again. He sat down on the bed, waiting for Anna to tell him about said conversation.

'Tell me all about it.'

'She said she was going to marry Johnny. For sure.' Anna laughed, sitting beside him. Reade slept in his cot and he would do so for the next couple of hours.

'Did she?!'

'She did! She was very convinced of it. She even asked me if I approved.'

'Goodness me!' John chuckled loudly, running a hand through his damp hair. 'Does he know about it?'

'I don't know. I don't think he does,' Anna said, brushing away a lock that had fallen over his brow, a playful smile gracing her features. He was ever so handsome when his hair was messy and wet. She loved the young, joyful look that it would bring to his expression.

'Poor lad,' he sighed. 'He's engaged and doesn't even know about it.'

'He does love Ailsa though. Not like that but, well...sometimes love grows, transforms. It wouldn't be the first time childhood sweethearts would marry.'

'That's true,' John agreed. 'But don't worry. You'll have your darling son with you for many years still.'

'I just thought it was funny, the way she spoke, so sure of herself.'

'She _is_ sure of herself. She reminds me of you sometimes. Knows what she wants, ever so clever and well spoken.'

'You are making fun of me now?' She smacked him on the shoulder.

'I would never. Come here.'

He pulled her to him, and she fell in his arms, laughing as she did so. He silenced her with a kiss, soft and gentle at first, but as soon as her hands came over his neck, he felt her begging for more. He did so then, claiming her tongue with his own, kissing as deeply and the way he knew she loved. They were dangerous, like this together. Like fire and dry kindling on a warm winter night. The breeze in favour, the heat always building up.

'John…' she pulled back without breath. 'We can't.'

'I know,' he said, looking in her eyes. 'But I can still kiss you, can't I?'

'Well...you can kiss me all you want but, whenever you do, I want more.'

'You keep on wanting then. When the time comes, you can do whatever you want with me.'

'That sounds good,' she giggled against his lips, pulling him close for another kiss.

'And I can't wait for it!'

 **xxxx**

The next day would bring yet more rain and wind. A storm that seemed to be living above the crashing waves at the shore. The sky was dark, the clouds came together as one. The seagulls flew madly searching for shelter, finding good spots in the old lighthouse. The old abandoned lighthouse. Modern devices had made it useless. There was an electric, bigger building at Tobermory's Bay, raised in a flash over the last few months. It was official now.

Mrs Bates looked out the kitchen window, memories taking her back in time. To a time when she had been young and in love, expecting a long and happy life on this Isle. That lighthouse meant so much, and she dared to think about the special moments she had lived there, with her Reade, her husband. Where, perhaps, her son had been conceived. And as long as it stood there, tall and proud, those memories would never die, and neither would she.

 _That lighthouse is still there to this day._

The loud knocks at the front door made her jump out of her thoughts. The water on the stove whistling in a boil.

'Can you answer the door, Johnny?' she asked the boy, who had been sitting down at the table, eating his breakfast before heading to school. He went willingly, opening the door to cold blue eyes.

'Hello.'

The woman was older than his mother but younger than Mrs Bates. She was slim but short, pale skin and a blonde bun at the back of her head. She had red lips, and she smelled of perfume, but somehow, she looked sick. Not all the powder in the world could mask the dark circles under her eyes.

'Hello…' Johnny replied back, dubiously facing the woman.

'Is this the Bateses cottage?' she asked, and he noticed the suitcase at her feet and the rain that had began to fall again. He nodded his response.

'So, you must be John?'

'I am but...everyone calls me Johnny. John is my dad.'

The confusion on the woman's face faded into a smiled. 'Of course.'

'And who are you?' The boy asked, remembering Mrs Bates words. _Always ask who's at the door before letting anyone in._

'My name is Prudence.' She answered quickly, chancing a furtive look inside the cottage. 'Is anyone else at home or are you alone?'

'Mrs Bates and mummy are home.' Johnny said, his mind putting two and two together, his eyes never leaving the woman's fragile figure. 'Dad's in the garage waiting for me to take me to school.'

'I see...and, may I come in?'

The boy stepped back unsure of what to say.

'Johnny, who's at the door?' Mrs Bates voice came to his ears then, shouting from the kitchen.

'It's granny, Mrs Bates!' He answer back just the same, before facing the woman again. 'The other one.'

* * *

 _ **Next chapter:**_ _Redemption and forgiveness._

 ** _Thank you for reading :)_**


	23. More Than Blood

_**A/N:** Good evening everyone! Hope you all had a great week and have an even greater weekend :D_

 _Enjoy this new chapter. There's a villain in the Isle ;P_

 _ **Disclaimer:** Same as chapter 1-22._

* * *

 **\- More Than Blood -**

'Not the warmest of welcomes, I must say.'

Her mother's voice was always unsettling, her pose wasn't too different. Anna walked her to the bedroom, not knowing exactly what to do or say. It had been a shock at first, when Mrs Bates ran up the stairs to tell her her mother was at the door, and then the shock turned into anxiety, and now, she couldn't help but feel trapped. Why was she there now? What did she want?

'You took everyone by surprise.'

'They weren't surprised…' Prudence spoke. 'Not from where I come from. Makes me wonder what you said about me.'

'I only told them what happened,' Anna replied shortly, before turning to face her mother. The walls of this house suddenly made her feel stronger. Maybe it was all due to the support she had found there. 'They are judging you by the truth.'

Prudence smiled. That old ironic smile that always made a proud debut on her lips, whatever the situation was. 'I see education isn't very common around here, and you seem to have learned from them.'

Her words didn't affect Anna, much to her surprise, instead, she saw her daughter's expression crumbling and a look of disappoint slowly emerging. Her daughter had changed, she could tell. 'I'm sorry… I'm sure they are all very good people, it's just-'

'Last time I saw you you didn't even care to ask,' Anna stated bitterly. 'Not even after my son, and now, you show up first thing in the morning without a warning...it puzzles me, and it puzzles them too.'

'I understand.' Her mother gave in. 'And I'm sorry, but, I didn't know I was coming until last night. Didn't give time for anyone to come with me. Caught the first ferry and got a lift from the mailman. It was quite the journey.'

'I see…'

They walked into Anna and John's bedroom. Outside the rain poured. The day couldn't match more with the heavy mood felt between them. Prudence's eyes were on everything. The bed, the curtains, the typewriter on the desk, the small cot where the little babe slept in.

'It's a good house, bigger than I thought... big windows, that's good.' The older woman observed as she walked toward the wooden crib. 'And this must be Reade.'

'Yes. He just ate.' Anna said.

'Can I hold him?'

The young mother's first instinct was to say no, for some reason she couldn't quite understand, but she took a moment to answer, to watch as her mother looked down at the baby boy with a sincere smile on her lips.

'Yes.' She finally responded, and slowly, Prudence took the sleeping baby in her arms, cradling him gently against her chest.

'He's beautiful...and just look at his hair.' The older woman whispered.

'Yes, he takes after his granddad.' Anna explained.

'And also his name?'

'Yes.'

'Although Reade…' Prudence wrinkled her nose. 'It's an unusual name.'

'From where we come from yes, and before you say it, I choose the name myself. John didn't know about it until I told him.'

'But, you never met Mr Reade, did you?'

'No, unfortunately. But I know the kind of man he was, and how important and respected he still is. I wanted to name my child after him since I found out I was pregnant, if it was a boy, and maybe, because I wanted that so much, he came with his granddad genes. They do say you get what you ask for.'

'Sometimes you don't.'

'Well, maybe not right away.' Anna stated, looking outside of the window to the beach. The sand was covered by the high tide, and the waves crashed furiously against the shore. It was going to be a long day, and not one of those lazy days by the fire, enjoying the peace and quiet of this house. It was going to be a difficult one.

 **xxxx**

John walked in the kitchen after taking Johnny to school, spotting his mother by the stove. Her favourite place to be. But today everything was different. She was frowning as she cooked, muttering words he couldn't hear. She shook her head now and then and sighed disapprovingly, and although he knew very well what this was all about, he couldn't help but find it a bit funny.

'Your tea is going to taste bitter if you keep complaining under your breath,' He joked, walking behind his mother to peek at what she was doing.

'You gave me a fright, John Bates!' The old woman brought one hand to her chest, almost spilling the beans she was pouring in the pan. 'Lord have mercy... what do you want?'

'I'm just saying. You can't disguise that frown for all the tea in China.'

'I'll be smilin' when they come down, all right. Don't you worry. But in the meantime let me vent all my complaints'

'Are you jealous?' John asked.

'Jealous?'

'I mean, not jealous but...now Anna's mother is here and you don't like it.'

'Shut it, boy. You know nothing…' Mrs Bates shook her head again, her eyes never leaving the food she was preparing. 'I'm upset, yes, but so are you. I just don't want that poor girl to suffer anymore, that's what. You should have seen her face when I told her her mother was here. Was able to hear her heart falling to her feet.'

'I know…' John sighed. 'I don't understand what she's doing here.'

'I hope she came to make peace.'

'You think she has forgiven Anna?'

'Forgi...are you serious now? She has nothing to forgive! Anna has. She was the one who was abandoned.'

'I know that!' He rolled his eyes. 'I was just saying. Mrs Smith always thought she was the victim in this, didn't she?'

'Cause she's stupid like that,' Mrs Bates spat out.

'Mother, please...I just hope she doesn't make Anna feel bad. I won't tolerate that.'

'You'd better not tolerate it.'

'Come on, don't be too upset,' John cooed playfully, tickling his mother at her sides. Something he used to do when he was younger. 'You're worse than I am. Come on…'

'Oh Lord, stop it.' She tried to brush his hands away, but she couldn't hide the grin on her face either. 'You chump-'

'That was fast!' Anna's voice came to their ears and John immediately let go of his mother to face his wife; Prudence followed behind.

'Yes, I…' John scratched his head, the presence of his mother in law making him feel rather awkward. 'I didn't want to take too long. Is Reade sleeping?'

'He is.'

'Why don't you sit down?' Mrs Bates offered. 'Breakfast is ready.'

'Am I invited as well?' Prudence questioned and the eyes of the two older women met. John and Anna remained silent, unsure of what to do.

'There's always room at my table, Mrs Smith. That's the way people are here,' Mrs Bates finally replied, smiling as she did so. Her son was impressed.

'That's very nice to hear.' Prudence smiled back, sitting down beside Anna, the spot where John usually sat. He didn't say a thing though, instead, he took his old father's place at the head of the table, the meaning of this gesture made him feel a bit sick. Only his mother noticed that.

'Mrs Bates is the best cook in the world.' Anna spoke a moment after, trying to make small talk, to disperse the heavy energy that was travelling through the air. This homely kitchen had never looked so glum before.

'Is she? I can't wait to find out for myself.' Prudence expressed with a hint of sarcasm. 'John, can I call you John? Reade is a precious little boy. You must be very proud.'

'I am. Proud of Anna, more than anything else.'

'I just hope Johnny isn't forgotten now,' Prudence said as she poured some tea into the mug before her. An awkward silence was felt again. This time John looked over at Anna and he saw the look of distress on her face. The young woman had predicted something like this, but that didn't mean she was prepared to take it, or to respond. There was something about her mother that made her feel small as a mouse in a hole. A step outside means certain death; remaining inside means a life imprisoned.

'Don't worry, Mrs Smith,' Mrs Bates replied, her smile still there, a cold blooded calmness that even put a look of surprise on her rival's face. 'Anna couldn't have chosen a better family for our Johnny. No one is forgotten in our home.'

 **xxxx**

'And here we are!' John announced, trotting across the hall with Johnny on his shoulders.

The three women sat in the front room. Anna and Prudence on the sofa and Mrs Bates on, what was now, John's chair. Reade was sleeping peacefully in a basket John had borrowed the other day from Jeph. Macbeth kept guard, his eyes would open every time Anna's mother moved. The radio was on channeling news. The fireplace burned low. There was knitting and the management of a house was being discussed. Prudence was sure her son's wife spent more than what they had. Mrs Bates was sure Prudence didn't like anyone but herself, but that, she kept private.

'But you didn't run,' the boy said, a little breathless, as they entered the room. His laughter had tired him.

'I ran!' John objected, putting Johnny down and pretending to be offended. Johnny wouldn't fall for his made up frown. He could see John trying so hard to suppress a smile.

'That wasn't running!' Johnny insisted with a giggle.

'That was my kind of running, young man,' John replied, mussing the boy's hair with his hand.

'The dragging kind of runnin' I reckon,' Mrs Bates voiced, grinning, the knitting in her hands turning into a bonnet.

'John, you shouldn't carry him like that. He's heavy.' Anna shook her head, smiling lovingly at her husband and son. It made her feel so happy whenever she saw the two together like this, only proving that her mother had been wrong all along. That soothed her heart and fears.

'He's all right, don't worry. Every child should know the feeling of being carried on someone's shoulders. I loved being carried when I was a boy,' John said, taking a deep breath.

'Mummy, I made dad turn by pulling his ears!' Johnny said opening his eyes wide in enthusiasm. 'When I pull his right ear he turns right, and when I pull his left he turns left.'

'And when I don't he pulls both of them!'

'Ha! You two…' Anna laughed.

'Better do what he says else you won't be buried with your ears,' Mrs Bates remarked, chuckling.

'Now give me a kiss,' Anna told her son, pointing to her cheek. Johnny did as he was told, walking to his mother and pressing his lips softly on her skin, but his eyes remained dubious on his grandmother. He wasn't very comfortable with her presence there.

'Go wash your hands, and that face…' Anna continued, trying to clean a smudge from the corner of his mouth with her thumb. 'And then, there's fresh made biscuits.'

'Yes!' Johnny cheered, rushing off. The prospect of food always made him happy.

'And how's this little man?' John cooed at the sleeping baby, running a finger along his cheek.

'He ate, I changed him, he slept. The usual.' Anna replied.

'Soon enough, it won't be that easy.' Prudence said and John nodded. He really didn't know what to say to her. She was, to say the least, intimidating. Reminded him of a certain someone from his past life. He hated it.

'Well, I need to change my bedding.' Mrs Bates declared, standing from the chair and putting her knitting aside. 'Do you have laundry?'

'I washed everything yesterday but I do have more nappies again,' Anna answered, pursing her lips.

'Oh, with babes there's always some laundry to do.'

'I'll wash those later.'

'Nonsense. I'll do it,' her mother in law offered.

'No, I will. You already do so much-'

'Oh, stop it child, that's what I'm here for. To help you. I was born to die cooking and cleaning. That's what I like to do.'

Before Anna could say anything else, Mrs Bates walked away with her mind set. There was nothing she liked more these days than to wash the little pieces of clothing that belonged to her grandchild.

'No need to argue with her, she'll always win on this,' John advised. 'She always wanted to have this house full of children so she could cook and clean for them. It's her dream.'

'I suppose you are the ones filling this house with children then, once she wasn't able to do it.' Prudence struck again. This time although, John had an answer for her.

'Whatever comes, I'll be happy to take it...I like to live one day at time,' He said, facing her for a moment, before walking to Anna and placing a kiss in the crown of her head. 'I'm going to wash my hands too. And take Johnny's bag to his room. He forgot.'

Anna nodded, as he left. Silence wouldn't prevail for long this time around.

'He shouldn't spoil the boy too much. Neither should she,' Prudence spoke, and for a moment Anna was glad that she had waited until they were alone. It hurt her to hear these awful words.

'They don't.' She had to catch her breath, almost bite her tongue even. 'Can't you understand that Johnny is like a son to him, and a grandson to Mrs Bates?'

'Aren't you afraid they will favour Reade over Johnny? I mean, blood speaks louder than anything else.'

'Does it?' Anna turned to her mother with a baffled look on her face. 'Not in this house, it doesn't. Nor in yours for that matter.'

'What do you mean?!'

'I mean that you speak so highly of yourself but in the end, I'm here with them because of you. I thank you though, for everything that you've done. If you hadn't cast me out I wouldn't be here. I thank you for that.'

'You have no right to talk to me like that. I am your mother!'

'And you only remembered that now?'

The boy ran. He didn't want to hear another word, so he ran. But he didn't go too far. He collided with Mrs Bates as she was coming down the stairs, her bedding and dirty nappies in her arms. The laundry fell to the floor.

'Whatever is the matter, Johnny? Have you seen a ghost?' The old woman asked him, and between surprise and trying to pick the laundry back, Johnny was able to dry his watery eyes.

'No…' the boy shook his head. 'I have homework to do.'

'What about the biscuits? You are always ready to eat.'

'I'm not really that hungry…'

'No?' Mrs Bates was confused. Worried even.

'No.' Johnny said, running up the stairs, passing past John as fast as he could.

'Oh! Johnny?' The boy ignored John's call and he looked questioningly at his mother. 'What happened?'

'He said he wasn't hungry…' Mrs Bates replied looking toward the hall and hearing Anna and Prudence's muffled voices. 'I reckon he's got something on his mind. Let me take care of this laundry, see if everything's well...with that woman here we never know.'

'Mother…please.'

And of course and he wouldn't be able to join the women after that. First, he had to check if everything was all right with his son.

'What's the matter, lad? I heard a rumour you weren't hungry…' John said as he walked into Johnny's room. The boy was sitting on his bed, head fallen forward, shoulders dropped, a posture that indicated anything but joy. 'Did that witch teacher of yours yelled at you or something?'

'Nah…' Johnny shook his head.

'Then what happened?' John asked, sitting beside the boy and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. 'Preferring homework to biscuits is not normal among boys of your age.'

'I was just thinking.'

'About what? Maybe I can help you.' John tried to convince Johnny to speak, but the child could only shrug. 'Come on, son, tell me what's wrong.'

'What if you don't like me anymore?'

'What?' John furrowed his brow, trying to understand what the boy meant.

'Because now you have your own son,' Johnny reasoned, his voice low and shaky. 'You don't need me to be your son anymore.'

'Johnny, where did you get that idea from?'

'I eavesdropped. I shouldn't have, I know.'

'You eavesdropped? Who?'

'Mummy and granny, the other one...she said that blood speaks louder.'

John sighed, looking up at the ceiling, cursing his mother in law under his breath. How could she still be so perverse after everything she'd done?

'Johnny, listen...your granny is very wrong,' he began, drawing the boy closer to him. 'Blood, it doesn't matter. Feelings matter, connections, the bonds that we create between one another. That is so much more important than blood. You are my son in my heart, before Reade was even born. You'll be my son forever.'

'Are you sure?' Johnny asked, his eyes teary as he looked up at him.

'Of course I'm sure! Do you really think I could do something like that?'

'No.'

'You know, my father used to tell me a story.'

'A story?!' That caught the boy's attention.

'Yes. There was this man, he lived many years ago, before my father's time. He was from the other side of the Isle, a man well respected, good hearted. He had three sons. The two eldest had born from his marriage, the youngest he found in the fields, wrapped in a shawl with barely a week of living. He took him home, named him, he and his wife cared for him like they had with the other two. So much that the boys only knew about this story many years later. He gave them all they ever needed, making sacrifices, working hard.'

Johnny's eyes shone at the tale. Stories always made him feel good, especially when it was John telling them.

'They all married. They all built their own family. They all moved out. Lived their lives on the Mainland, and only one son kept visiting him, year after year. Only one son brought his family over to his father, every Christmas, every Easter, every birthday. The man would always brag to his friends that that son was the one he loved the most, his favourite, the son who had never forgotten his roots.'

'Was that son the one that wasn't really his son?' Johnny asked.

'Exactly. The baby he found in the field was the son who always returned. What do you think of this story? It's what's in your heart that matters.' John pointed to Johnny's chest. 'The feelings that you nourish.'

'Granny is mum's mother and she abandoned her too. I heard Mrs Bates and mummy talking once.'

'So you know better than anyone else that blood means nothing.'

'Yes. And I'll always be your son, won't I?'

'Of course you will. Always.' John assured with a smile, pulling Johnny for a hug, and the boy went willingly, wrapping his small arms around John's neck and enjoying the feeling of a strong and tight embrace. John smelled of home for him, of fatherly love. The kind that grows in your heart and it roots into your spirit. The kind that never ceases.

'Mrs Bates said he wasn't hungry…' Anna's voice interrupted them, as she leaned on the door frame watching the beautiful scene before her, smiling as she did so. 'Of course I was worried about that. My son's always hungry! Whatever is the matter?'

'Nothin' is...I'm hungry now.' Johnny replied, jumping off the bed and running past her.

'Oh! Good,' she chuckled. 'What was all that about?'

'Boy's stuff, you would never understand.' John teased, walking to her.

'You silly.'

'And you left Mrs Bates alone with Mrs Smith?' he asked, feigning shock, as he rested his hands on her waist. 'That won't end well.'

'I know my mother is not welcomed but-'

'That's not the point, love,' he said, squeezing her softly. 'She is welcomed, she's your mother after all. I just...I see...I look in your eyes and they are lost. I've never seen you like this before. She still moves you, in some terrible way.'

'She frightens me,' Anna sighed sadly. 'I don't know why. It's like she has some kind of power over me.'

'Then don't let her. She's your mother not your master. You've been living without her for so long already, all the power she had over you is gone. You are not that girl anymore. You are not alone. No matter what happens, what she says or what she does, we will be always here.'

'Thank you,' Anna smiled tearily at him, before wrapping her hands over his neck, holding him tight against her. She felt him kiss her temple, and his hands caressed her sides. In his arms she felt so protected.

'Let's go down? Those biscuits were smelling so good,' John said after they broke apart, a cheeky grin spreading on his lips. 'We don't want to leave those two alone for too long, else we'll get there to blood and death.'

'John, it's not funny.' Anna rolled her eyes.

'Oh it is. You should have seen the look on Mother's face this morning.'

'I did, and as I said, it's not funny.'

'She's jealous. She's afraid you won't love her anymore,' He pouted playfully as he spoke. Anna couldn't help but giggle at that.

'Well, that's not even a chance. She has nothing to worry about. I just don't wish she was my mother more than I do because that would make us brother and sister.'

'God. That would be awful!'

 **xxxx**

'And dad made a new kite but we can't really fly it because the weather is not good. But we will once it improves,' Johnny told Prudence. There was a tray with tea and biscuits on the side table. Anna's mother had a mug on her hands.

'That's lovely. What else do you like to do?' Prudence asked the boy.

'I like to draw and play with my tin soldiers. Dad plays with me too, but he doesn't really draw. He just writes. He's a writer, you know.'

'Well, he writes.' Prudence pursed her lips before sipping at her tea.

'He writes all right, hence why he's a writer,' Mrs Bates remarked from John's chair. 'He's not Shakespeare, but he's good enough. Your daughter thinks he's the best writer that ever walked the earth. She's here because of his books.'

'I see...you know more about my daughter than I do,' Prudence muttered. 'I know it's my fault, you don't need to say it.'

'Oh I won't, but I'll think it.' Mrs Bates shot her a look.

'I would like us to be friends.' Prudence gave in with a sigh. 'We are family after all. My grandchildren are your grandchildren as well.'

'With the amount of times we'll see each other before I'm dead, I reckon acquaintances is good enough.'

'I imagined you being like this. Strongly opinionated.'

'Oh, Mrs Smith, I'm the calmest of tides when there's a full moon, but when storms brew on the horizon I will rebel.'

'Am I a storm then?' Prudence asked, unamused.

'We are not comfortable enough for me to call you a full moon yet.'

'I see you are loving each other's company,' John said as he and Anna walked back in.

'John said it was a mistake to leave you two alone,' Anna added.

'I don't see why he said that. We were just talking,' Prudence replied almost confused by what they meant.

'Yes, talking.' Mrs Bates answered just the same. 'Getting to know each other…how're the biscuits, Johnny?'

'Pretty good!' The boy spoke with his mouthful and a chocolaty smile. That was enough to make Mrs Bates happy.

'Good, that's good,' she said. 'Come on, sit down you two. Your tea will turn cold.'

 **xxxx**

It was much later when Anna walked back in their bedroom. The storm outside had calmed down, together with everyone's spirits. The rest of the day had ran smoothly enough, and Mrs Bates didn't show a mad face when she offered Prudence their guest room. They had been counting on it anyway, when Anna's mother had showed up with a case at her feet.

Now, all she wanted was the peace and lovely quiet of their bed. A place she could never get tired of.

John sat at the desk, writing away on his typewriter. His eyes focused on the paper before him. 'What?' He asked when it was obvious that she was staring.

'It's just so nice to come in here and see you sitting there, writing,' she said and he smiled.

'Is your mother settled?'

'She is. I can't thank you and Mrs Bates enough to let her stay.'

'She's your mother, Anna.'

'I know but still…I wasn't even sure myself if she should stay.' Anna shrugged her shoulders.

'A couple of days won't harm anyone.' John tried to sound positive.

'A couple? We'll see…I hope not. I'm going for my bath, will you see to Reade?'

'See to Reade?' John chuckled, looking over at the cot where their son was sleeping. 'He'll sleep for the next two days if you let him.'

Anna shook her head with a big smile. 'I'm going then.'

'What about Johnny?' John asked before she left the room.

'Your mother is with him. She wanted to tell him a story tonight, I reckon it's another one of your childhood antics.'

'God help me!' He heard her soft laugh as she walked away and couldn't help but doing the same, before continuing with his writing. But that wouldn't last too long, as not a minute later there was a knock at the door.

'Oh! I'm sorry.' Prudence excused herself. 'I thought Anna was here?'

'She's bathing...but, may I have a word?'

His question took the woman by surprise and she took a few seconds to answer.

'Of course.'

'Please, come in. Sit down.' John stood from his desk and motioned toward the chair he had been sitting on.

'Thank you.' Prudence walked in, taking his previous place.

John walked over to check on Reade then, gaining some time to think, to put his thoughts into place. It seemed to work, at first.

'Is it so difficult to find the right words, John? I won't bite.'

He gave a small smile, as he looked down at his child; his back at his mother in law. He had never been a man of many words, and most of the time he had prefer to stay quiet and invisible, but tonight there was a greater cause.

'I'm going direct to the point, Mrs Smith.'

'I like that.'

'Johnny,' John began, his voice sure and his eyes on hers. 'He heard you and Anna talking and he was very upset about it.'

'He did?' Prudence understood exactly what John was talking about. 'Well, he shouldn't have been listening to-'

'That's not the point. He knows it's wrong to eavesdrop but sometimes, it happens.'

'What did he hear then, that left him so upset?' Now she was the one trying to gain some time.

'That I would treat him differently because he's not my blood, because blood speaks louder, as you said.'

'And am I wrong? Men, they don't know how to love what's not theirs. For women that's easier, we have bigger hearts, we are more emotional...that's just the way things are. I don't want my grandson to grow up feeling-'

'Feeling what?' John interrupted. Her speech was making him angry. That was never good. He was quiet, he didn't talk too much, but when angered in the extreme he sometimes lost control. That's why he had been so afraid of speaking to this woman. All Anna's repression, all her suffering, it would all reflect on his own words.

'Abandoned?' he continued. 'Is that what you are worried about? It sounds familiar, you know, not to me, but maybe to you it does.'

'You don't understand,' Prudence grimaced, rising from her seat.

'I understand that you know nothing about feelings.' He stopped her from leaving by standing in between her and the door. 'That, even though you are a woman your heart is empty and dry. How dare you? I love your grandson more than you ever loved your daughter.'

'You have no right to-'

'You have no right to come here and spread poison like a vicious snake. You put fear and doubt in the minds of those you say you love...that right died when you abandoned your daughter to her own mercy, with a child. She came here, with nothing but a case in one hand and a little boy in the other, my mother took her in, as if she was her own. Anna healed here, Johnny doesn't know anything but this Isle anymore. They learned that love has nothing to do with blood. If that was the case, why isn't she in your house? We are not like you.'

'Doesn't it revolt you that she gave herself to another man? That she had a child with him?'

'Revolt me?' John couldn't believe what he was hearing. 'I was married for a few years. Before that, well…I understand what she did, and even if I didn't, Johnny isn't to blame. We all have pasts. You have too. What matters is that, now, Anna is my wife, and I couldn't love her more than I do.' He took a deep breath before speaking again. No way to hold his tongue back now.

'She says...your daughter, she's very wise, you know, she says that my past made me the man I am today. Her John. Well then, her past made her my Anna, and for that, I am very proud of her. That she was able to fight against the odds. To venture all by herself with her child to a place she had never knew before. And now, here she is. Married to a man, well, I think I am good man. We're not rich but we live well enough. We have a big house, work, some money. She has her own job, her own money, she's respected here, everyone loves her. And she just became a mother again. I think she did splendid.'

'But they don't know what really happened, do they?'

'They know she's strong and that she's a wonderful teacher…' He stopped to look at Prudence for a moment, trying to understand why she was this bitter. 'Why are you here? What did you come to see? What proof are you looking for? When she was last with you, you thought you were dying, and even then you didn't want to see your grandchild. What do you want now?'

'I just came to make sure she was doing well. As well as she described in her letters to her brother. I wanted to meet my grandchildren too,' Prudence spoke averting her eyes.

'I think you came because...you were hopeful all she wrote was not the truth.'

'I want to see my daughter happy!' She rose her voice, facing him angrily.

'Let her be happy then.'

Prudence nodded, breathing in. Her fury washing away. She sat down back down.

'You are wrong, you know,' she confessed. 'I regret everything I did to her and that's why I'm here. I'm here because I want to make sure she was happy. I want to meet Johnny. I want to redeem myself. I know I treated her badly. I know all that.'

John walked to her and rested a hand on her shoulder. She sighed into his touch. 'Why don't you tell her that then? Just tell her. Tell her you're sorry. That's what she needs to hear, more than anything.'

* * *

 _ **Next Chapter:** Forgiveness. _

_**Thank you for reading :)**_


	24. To The Future

_**A/N:** Good evening everyone! Hope you enjoy this new chapter. I know I've been, once again, lacking on updates and I'm sorry for that. Real life is persistent as hell! Thank you all for sticking with me, for your reviews, fallows and faves, I can't say enough how important those are for us writers. Thank you! _

_Hope you all have a grand weekend :D_

 ** _Disclaimer:_** _Same as chapter 1-23._

* * *

 **\- To The Future -**

It was a rare occasion of a sunny day in December. The air freezing, the sky clear and cloudless, the sea calm, waiting, relishing in this apparent stillness. The snow would start falling in a few days.

Inside their home, the ambience was warm and inviting. In the kitchen, the warmth of cooked meals was always felt, and in the front room the fireplace flickered low. That's where Johnny was, on the floor, enjoying the fuzzy feeling of the carpet, playing with his soldiers.

Mrs Bates sat on the sofa, cradling a sleeping Reade against her chest, humming some song the older boy had never heard of.

'I helped mummy change his nappy this morning. She said I did a good job,' Johnny remarked proudly, from the spot where he played.

'Oh, I'm sure you did,' Mrs Bates replied with a smile.

'Oh! And his bellybutton fell. It was so…' The boy wrinkled his nose in disgust and the old woman couldn't help laugh at his words.

'Ha! Yes, it was time. He doesn't need it anymore.'

'Daddy said babies get their…food through there when they are in their mummy's tummy,' Johnny told. 'He also said all animals have it. That's why we all have bellybuttons.'

'That is true. Even little chicks have it, and they come from an egg.'

'That's un...une...unbelievable!' the boy exclaimed, rising from the floor and taking the seat beside the old woman. 'Mrs Bates? When will Reade start talking and walking? Because I want to play with him. He only sleeps now.'

'It will take sometime still but it will go by so fast,' she said, running a finger along the baby's cheek before wrapping one arm around Johnny's shoulders to pull him closer to them. 'Soon enough you two will be running around together.'

'That's why I wanted to have a brother, girls don't like boy games.'

'Ailsa does. You love playing with her,' Mrs Bates said.

'Yes...Ailsa does.'

'Where's Anna?' Prudence's voice took both by surprise and Johnny didn't take too long to return to his previous spot on the floor, right in front of the fireplace, on the carpet where Macbeth loved to nap.

'She and John went for a walk,' Mrs Bates answered, accommodating Reade in her arms.

'And she left Reade on his own?'

The remark earned Prudence a look. 'Well, as you can see he's not on his own.'

'I didn't mean that,' Prudence shook her head. 'I meant, what if he gets hungry?'

'He won't. Anna fed him before leaving, and they won't be long. She's a wonderful mother, your daughter. She wouldn't go anywhere if she wasn't sure her children would be fine.'

'I know she is,' Prudence said, sitting down beside Mrs Bates.

'Do you really?'

The two women eyed each other, but Reade would put an end to this constant rivalry, at least for a few minutes. He stretched in his grandmother's arms and let go of a soft sigh, and the two couldn't help but look down at the baby boy. Johnny continued to play with his soldiers. In this house a war was always near, with Prudence here, fiction and reality walked side by side.

 **xxxx**

'Aren't you cold?' John asked, tightening his hold around her body. They had walked down to the beach in winter coats and thick scarves. The breeze from the sea was piercing, freezing their breath as soon as it left their mouths.

'Not really...I'm never cold when you hold me.' She lied just a bit, as she leaned back against his chest, sitting between his legs as they both sat on the sand, facing the ocean.

'You don't say that when you are sleepy and moody in the middle of the night,' John chuckled, kissing the top of her head.

'Tell me.'

'What?'

'About last night,' Anna insisted, looking back at him.

'Last night?'

'Something happened, I know.' Anna sighed, taking his left hand in hers. 'I saw my mother leaving our bedroom in a rush and then...your mood changed. I know you, John Bates. I know when you are brooding,' she said, fiddling with his wedding ring.

'You're right, something happened.'

'Tell me then. Was she nasty to you?'

'She is your mother, you know her better than I do,' he said. 'But we talked, and, well...I may have been the nasty one.'

'Never.' She gasped, feigning shock.

'It's true.'

'I'm sorry,' Anna shrugged her shoulders in defeat. 'It's my faul-'

'Listen, don't you ever say that again.' She felt his breath soft against her neck, his tone was gentle but sure. 'It's not your fault your mother did what she did. And it's not your fault that I felt like I needed to tell her about it.'

'About what?'

'About...about the way she treated you and…' John was silent for a second, before deciding to tell her everything. '...Johnny heard her saying we would favour Reade over him.'

'He did?!' Anna turned to face him. 'Oh no. He didn't say anything.'

'He didn't because, in all his innocence, he wants to protect you as well. He knows about Prudence; what she did to you, to him, and he doesn't want you to feel worse. He loves you so much and he knows the sacrifices you made for him.'

'How does he know all that?' Anna questioned worriedly.

'Good old eavesdropping,' John replied with a small smile.

'The beggar,' she whispered, bringing one hand to cover her mouth, trying to understand the weight that all this would have on her son.

'He doesn't mean to, it happens. Sometimes we forget that children pick it all up, they're so much clever than what we think.'

'That's true. My poor son.'

'You should talk to him, tell him how you feel. After all, you've shared so much, the both of you, so much more than most mothers and children.'

'I try to pretend we've always lived here,' Anna told him, looking down and drawing lazy circles in the cold sand. Her eyes began to water, thinking about everything that had ever happened. 'That he was born here, and honestly, sometimes I forget he came from somewhere else...you're right, John. I should talk to him.'

'Come here, love. You're so cold.'

She went willingly, falling back into his warm embrace. His chin resting atop her head, his hands gently around her, caressing her body and her soul. Indeed she was cold, freezing even, but he did warm her up; inside, completely, everlasting.

'Do you think I've been neglecting him?'

'What are you talking about?'

'Sometimes I feel like I don't give him enough attention, and now with Reade...'

'Don't be silly, Anna. You're always after him.'

'Because, I don't want him to feel like I love him less…'

'He doesn't and he never will, because you don't. You are a wonderful mother. The best...you are nothing like your mother if that's what you are afraid of.'

Anna looked back at him again, a gentle smile growing on her lips. He knew her so well, her John. He always knew what kind of fear made her doubt herself sometimes. 'Thank you, John, for Johnny. I couldn't have chosen a better father for my children.'

John smiled, kissing her cheek, knowing exactly what she meant by that. For them it would always be both. A child that had existed before, whom he had learned how to love with all his heart, and another born from their love. For him, the two would always be special. For her, it had been a dream come true.

'I love you,' he whispered at last. The tide was shifting and rising, the sleeping seagulls now awake, flying together with the boats at sea.

'I miss them already…' Anna spoke softly, thinking about the two boys waiting for them at home.

'I do too. It seems they have been here all my life. You too. And you know what? I bet Mother is hoping we take all the time in the world to go back.'

'Do you think so?'

'She loves when Reade cries and she's first to pick him up. Unfortunately, to her, he's a quiet baby. And you know how much she loves to tell Johnny stories.'

'She does, especially when they're stories about you.' Anna giggled.

'She's been waiting all her life for this. I remember when I was a boy, she was already dreaming of her grandchildren. She would tell me that and I wouldn't care much about it, I was young and I didn't think about girls yet, but she did. She had grand plans,' John told her.

'I hope we can give her what she wants. She deserves it.'

'We already did, my darling. Actually...you did first, when you came here with Johnny. The mood of her letters changed from that day. I could feel the joy in her words.'

It was true, and he could never forget it. The letters he had received from his mother during the war had changed since the day Anna and Johnny had moved in. She began to make plans and to tell him about the two as if they were part of the family, as if John himself knew who they were. It had been a joy to notice his mother's happiness and to him...well, it had changed his life forever. He had known Anna from there, and he had fallen in love then.

'We should go now. It's really getting cold,' he said, touching the tip of her nose with his cold finger, before standing up. 'You've got a red nose.'

'I am freezing,' Anna remarked as he helped her come to her feet.

'I knew you were lyin - Anna!'

She began to run from him, her laughter echoing down the shore, telling him to catch her if he could, and he had never loved her more than he did in that moment.

 **xxxx**

'She used to teach the younger children to read. I still remember her little, with two long braids and her favourite wellingtons on, walking down the street with a stack of books under her arm, ready to teach the others to read.' Prudence spoke slowly with Reade now sleeping in her arms; Mrs Bates listened attentively as the two sat on the sofa. Johnny was still on the floor, this time, he laid on his belly, drawing and painting on a piece of paper.

'She wasn't more than eight or nine...her father used to say that she would be a wonderful teacher when she grew up, I reckon he was right.'

'Always sure of herself, I can see,' Mrs Bates remarked smiling.

'Yes. She was always a strong girl. I worked so much and her father did too, she...she spent a lot of time by herself. I guess she found comfort in books, stories. My son is older, they never really played much, not for hours on end like siblings usually do.'

'She wasn't planned,' the older woman asked in a low tone, minding the child that was there with them and who always had his ears ready to pick on anything the adults said.

'She was not,' Prudence replied, almost whispering. 'It was hard when she was born, we didn't have much. I ironed, washed, cleaned other people's houses, my husband worked long nights. My son didn't follow his studies, all our hopes were on Anna.'

'Until the day she told you she was pregnant.'

'Yes, and I know. You don't need to say it.'

Mrs Bates pursed her lips. 'I won't...I won't say it.'

'But I guess...in the end it all turned out well, and I have to thank you for that. You did what I couldn't do.' Prudence sighed deeply, watching as Johnny drew; his tongue poking out and a frown on his brow. He was creating a true masterpiece.

'You are never too late, you know. She'll always be your daughter. He'll always be your grandson... Oh, there you are!' Mrs Bates cheered, immediately changing the tone of her voice, as John and Anna came in the front room with big smiles and cold faces. 'I bet you're both freezing. Sit here by the fire.'

'Mummy look!' Johnny ran to Anna as she sat down at one edge of the sofa. 'It's us.' The boy showed her the colourful drawing he had been working on, pointing out to every character. 'Dad, you, carrying Reade, me and Mrs Bates.'

There was an awkward silence after Johnny's words. Prudence pretended not to hear what he had just said; Anna took the paper in her hands and managed a small smile. Mrs Bates and John shared a look.

'What about granny Prudence, Johnny?' John spoke from his chair, with an easiness that took everyone by surprise. 'Why don't you draw her too?'

'I can…' Johnny nodded, pursing his lips. 'In the distance because she lives far away.'

'That's a good idea, see,' John encouraged the boy, as he returned to his spot on the floor to finish the last detail of his drawing. When John looked over to his wife, she was smiling at him, grateful.

'So, what were you talking about?' Anna asked, facing his mother and Mrs Bates.

'Oh, Prudence was telling us about you.'

'Me?'

'When you were a child, trying to teach everyone to read.'

Anna laughed at her mother in law's words. 'Oh yes, I remember that. I've always wanted to be a teacher.'

'You've never told me that!' John lifted his eyebrows in surprise.

'And I was also saying that I'm leaving tomorrow.' Everyone went silent again. Mrs Bates didn't remember that topic being discussed. 'I can't leave your father by himself too long, and I had time to meet everyone already,' Prudence resumed.

Her speech worried John though. He was expecting more from this visit. After the conversation they had had last night he thought-

'Anna,' but Prudence continued. 'Can you help me pack? I want to have everything ready before dinner, so I don't have to worry about it anymore.'

John sighed relived. Anna didn't understand what her mother tried to tell her. 'You only brought a couple of things.'

'I just want to make sure I don't forget anything,' Prudence insisted, opening her eyes at her daughter. Anna knew then.

 **xxxx**

'What you think they're talking about?' Mrs Bates asked, knitting a new pair of tiny boots for the baby. 'Next, I'm knitting warm socks for you too,' she told Johnny with a wink. The boy was eating cake, sitting in John's chair, a place he always longed for but never used without asking for permission. He felt wise and powerful there.

'I hope they are talking about parting on good terms,' John replied, making sure Reade was tucked comfortably in his basket.

'Yes, I hope so too. Anna needs to be at peace,' his mother said, before lowering her voice. 'It's time for that woman to stop thinking so highly of herself.'

'I don't really care what she thinks of herself, as long as she doesn't bother Anna. But...it's complicated, she's...she's a complicated woman. She lives too much in the past.'

'Better come to the present else she'll be losing this side of the family forever, and you know what they say, daughters are daughters...they are our hands when we most need.'

'Anna is her daughter but, she'll always be yours more,' John remarked looking at his mother. 'She's here with you, not with her. Her home is here.'

'What about you?' Mrs Bates changed the subject, resting her knitting on the side table.

'What about me?'

'I saw the look on your face when you sat in Reade's...in your father's chair, at the table. Remember? What was all that about?'

John sat down beside her with a thoughtful look furrowing his brow. 'It was like...I was taking his place.'

'You're the man of this family now, John. Not your father. And taking his place...what's so bad about it? You are his son, that's the natural way of life. You should be thankful you're here to do so. He would be so proud of the man you've become…'

'I'm just, I'm afraid these little things will diminish his presence.' John confessed.

'They won't. Quite the opposite, it just makes his presence stronger.'

He looked at his mother, confused, and she couldn't help but smile at him. 'I look at you, sitting in the places he used to sit. Laughing the way he did, looking at the moon with that brooding face of yours; I see him. I see Reade in everything you do, in everything you say.' She stopped for a second, trying to control the tears that had formed in her eyes. Taking his hands in her, she cleared her throat before continuing. 'Having his places to yourself just makes him become alive once again. You are his son, there's no one in the world as his as you are.'

John smiled, nodding, thinking about what his mother had just said. One day he would be gone too, and would he mind his sons taking his place? No, he wouldn't. He would want them to. He would want to be replaced by the people he loved the most. He understood then his mother's reasons, her words and advice. Life is cyclical, it repeats itself. Not exactly the same but a chain of variations. Parents, children, grandchildren...one after the other. Traditions, stories, feelings, and the attempt to better oneself, generation after generation. He would do that, and his children would never be too far from him.

Meanwhile, in the guest bedroom, Anna and Prudence had finished packing. There was a sense of relief mixed with a feeling too strange to explain. There were words to be said, things to be amended, but there was also the lack of courage to begin.

'All done,' Anna said. 'Let's go down? Reade will be awake soon-'

'Wait.' Prudence stopped her before Anna could reach the door, taking a long breath before continuing. 'I...I called you here because I wanted to speak to you alone.'

'All right…' Anna nodded. 'John told me -'

'I'm sorry,' Prudence said at once, unable to lose any more time rounding the subject. Her daughter was surprised by her directness. 'I'm sorry what I said about them and about Johnny. I shouldn't have, and I know the boy heard it and I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention.'

'I know it wasn't.' Anna said quietly.

'Also...well, how can I say it? The thing is, Anna…' Prudence struggled to find the right words she needed. 'When you wrote to your brother telling him all about them, it sounded just so, too good to be true. I couldn't believe that after everything you had found a home. You see, I know you think I don't care but I do, in my own way…'

'In your own very strange way,' the young woman added.

'Yes. You're right. I should have cared more when I cast you out. But I regretted it, I did.' Prudence reached for Anna's hands, holding them tight. 'I've been through many sleepless nights just thinking about what I did to you. I needed to make sure all you said was true. I needed to make sure you were well, your son was well, that you were loved. I've done such a poor job at it. I've never loved you enough, I always forgot about it. I took your for granted, and I'm sorry for that. You must understand, you had a bright future, our hopes were on you and then…'

'And then I made a mistake and you forgot about a bright future and your hopes and that you loved me.' Anna withdrew from her mother's hold. 'Is that what you are trying to say? Because I'm a mother, _mum_ , and I know that no matter what I could never deny my children. Ever. And I don't understand how you did it.'

'I know, I know…I'm sorry, Anna. I need you to forgive me.' Her mother pleaded, teary eyed. Anna had never seen her so shaken, so weak.

'I already did, and only because you brought me here, to this place, to the life I have today.' Anna smiled as she spoke, approaching her mother this time. There was a strength inside of her growing by the minute, and to her surprise there was not a single trace of resettlement left in her. 'And because...you are my mother, and I love you and I couldn't live in peace otherwise.'

Prudence smiled before continuing. 'Your father...He wanted to visit you before, I was the one who didn't want to. I was afraid that, I don't know...he never agreed with what I did.'

'He could have written.' Anna said.

'Your father doesn't do anything without my permission, you know that.'

'Maybe one day you can visit us, both of you. But that's it.' Anna suggested, coldly. There were certain things she would never forget, words that could never be unheard. There would always been a hard feeling between her family and herself, and she was ready to live with that.

'I understand.'

'I found here everything I needed, and everything I wanted. I have no need of anything else.' She reasoned to her mother. 'I'm sorry…'

'Don't be. We're the ones to blame. And I'm very happy that you found a mother in Mrs Bates. She's a good woman.'

Anna nodded with a smile, just before the cries of her baby reached their ears. 'Reade is crying. I should go down.'

'Yes, do that. I'm right behind you…'

The older woman sat down on the bed after Anna left the room, thinking about everything they had talked about, and for a moment she allowed herself to cry. She knew then she had lost her daughter forever. Things could never be the same again, and she was the only one to blame.

 **xxxx**

'Well, I want to thank you all for the hospitality. Two very interesting days, to say the least.' Prudence smiled at the entrance door the next morning. Her case in hand and ready to leave. John would take her to the Bay for her to catch the ferry home, and truth to be told, everyone was relieved to see her go. She was an awkward woman to be around, even when she was being nice.

'Thank you for taking care of my daughter, and my grandson,' she continued, turning to Mrs Bates. Her reply was a nod and a small smile. ' _You don't need to thank me for what gives me pleasure to do.'_

'Write, tells us how you all are,' Anna stepped between the two, trying to avoid any more rivalries.

'Oh yes, we'll keep in touch,' Prudence said, pulling her daughter for a tight hug.

'It's for you…' Johnny handed her the drawing when they two pulled apart. A big smile on his lips, trying to remember every word John had told him to say. 'So you won't forget about the family on the Isle.'

'Oh, I certainly won't now!' Prudence smiled teary, taking the drawing in her hands, after placing a sound kiss on the boy's forehead. 'Thank you, Johnny. You are a very good boy. Your grandfather will love to hear about you, I'm sure.'

'And Reade!' Johnny remarked.

'And Reade too, of course.'

'Let's go then?' John clapped his hands together, ready to go, before taking the case Prudence was holding in his hand. 'Let me take this to the car.'

'Yes, let's go, before I miss the ferry! Goodbye.'

'She's not that bad, your mother...I thought it would be much worse,' Mrs Bates said while they waved at the car until it was out of sight.

'I did too. And we all parted in peace. It was good she came for that,' Anna agreed. 'Now, how shall we spend our morning, young sir?'

'I have to build a tower with my blocks to protect Macbeth Isle from a grand invasion!' Johnny replied excited, opening his eyes wide in anticipation.

'Goodness me, another war?!' Mrs Bates chuckled as she walked inside the house, leaving Anna behind with a pleading Johnny at her feet.

'Carry me, mummy!'

'Johnny, you're too heavy,' Anna giggled, as the boy wrapped his arms around her legs, making it difficult for her to walk.

'Please, mummy, please.'

She dragged her son instead, pulling him by his hands along the hall. Now, that was better than being carried, and Johnny couldn't help but laugh loudly at his mother's attempts.

 **xxxx**

'Thank you for driving me, John.' Prudence broke the silence inside the car, as the Bay came in view.

'And thank you for talking to Anna. I was afraid you wouldn't do it.'

'I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if I hadn't.'

'That is good to know,' John chuckled to himself.

'Do you still think me cold hearted?' she asked him.

'Not as much, no. But it was good to meet you, we have to start somewhere,' he replied as he parked the car. Cargo boats were arriving at the bay. The ferry that would take her home was already waiting.

'My daughter said you were a quiet man, does she know about this side of yours?'

'She knows about all my sides, Mrs Smith. Better than anyone else.'

Not ten minutes later they were waving goodbye, and Prudence Smith wouldn't visit them again for another year. All was well now, for everyone. The past didn't change but their future did, as it always does.

* * *

 _ **Next Chapter:** One month later...an almost finished story and a storm at sea. _


	25. Premonition

_**A/N:** Hello everyone! Oh, I am so late for this update and I apologize. But what matters is this new chapter, right? ;) (one of the final ones, we are getting there) Hope you enjoy it, and wish you all a good weekend :) _

_**Disclaimer:** Same as chapter 1-24._

* * *

 **\- Premonition -**

It was one of those lazy mornings, simple and candid with nothing too important to tell. The rain outside pounded against the window glass, but there was a stillness in the air, in the mood of those living in this house. Sometimes you just know the skies need to pour and the land needs to be washed, and somehow you relish it like nothing else, knowing that there isn't anything as soothing as the warm comfort of family when the weather outside turns. Knowing that here, in this place, you will be safe from tempest and cold.

Anna found herself enjoying these moments more than anything. A baby laying on her bed, she and Johnny on their bellies looking down at him. The perfect start of day.

'Aw, he's watching you, Johnny,' she spoke softly, fiddling with Reade's chubby fingers, but nothing could break the spell he was in. Johnny was becoming one of his favourite people to study. 'He loves his brother, he does.'

'I'm going to teach him so many things, mummy,' Johnny dreamed aloud, smiling down at the little boy; hands on his chin for support. 'Dad and I were talking the other day and we're going to teach him lots!'

'Oh, I'm sure you will.'

There was a moment of silence then. Just a mother watching two sons bounding without words.

'Mummy,' Johnny turned to her with a frown. 'When will you go back to being our teacher?'

'Oh, I don't know...Reade is still so little.'

'Because we don't like the wick- Miss Jenkins.' He corrected himself before it was too late. Anna didn't like when he talked like that. John, on the other hand, found it hilarious, after all, as he said, every child needs a wicked teacher in his life.

'Miss Jenkins doesn't sound as bad as you all say.' Anna shot Johnny a look but the smile on her lips contradicted her scolding. 'I've spoken to her and she seems nice.'

'But she is bad, I swear. She's nice to you because you are a grown up like her.'

Anna pursed her lips. 'If you don't do anything wrong, keep your voice down and do your work properly, she won't bother you.' Anna reasoned.

'I swear she would anyway,' Johnny decided, certain he was right on this.

She shook her head, knowing too well the speeches children had on the tip of their tongue for these matters. _I didn't do anything. I wasn't speaking. It wasn't me. She doesn't like me._ Anna could meet a million of them and they would always say the same thing.

'But tell me, have you decided what you want for Christmas?'

'I want a tank!' Johnny replied with a big smile.

'A tank?'

'A war tank. A fake one, of course.'

'A fake war tank…' Anna thought. 'Where can I get you one? I don't think I've ever seen them-'

'I have a magazine in my room with a bunch of 'em. You just have to order it.' Johnny sat up, his eyes filled with excitement. He had been waiting for her to ask him this question, it always happened this way.

'Oh, I see…' Anna chuckled, finding it funny that her son had everything ready for his own present. 'You should show me that magazine then…and that's all? What about the kite? Didn't you want a new one?'

'Yes, but dad said we would build one together. He builds good ones.'

'You just need to stop getting them eaten by trees.' She ran a hand through his blond hair; it needed a haircut soon. Maybe John could do it.

'Yeah…'

'And what's this?' John came in the room in that moment, taking them by surprise. 'Three monkeys on my bed?'

'Three?' Anna looked at her son's, counting. 'You are counting me as a monkey too!?'

'Of course I am!' John said with a chuckle, joining them on the bed.

Johnny giggled. 'You're a monkey too, mummy.'

'Monkey babies come from monkey mothers if you ask me.' John added to his banter, winking at his wife.

'And monkey mothers marry monkey fathers.' Anna eyed him playfully and he couldn't help but agree with her logic.

'So, what were we talking about?' he asked.

'We were talking about building a new kite when the weather improves,' Anna replied.

'Yes! And that I have to be careful not to get it in a tree, like the other three.'

'Oh yes! Maybe I should open a kite shop just for you,' John joked, mussing the boy's hair. 'And what about you?' he turned to Reade then. 'Do you want to fly kites too, little one?'

'I reckon he only wants mummy's milk and good naps at the moment,' Anna giggled. 'But I'm sure when he grows up, he'll love flying kite as much as you two.'

'We'll teach him!' Johnny stated. 'And we'll teach him not to get them in the trees.'

 **xxxx**

'You should come with us! After all, you are in charge of the business, you should know how stuff is done,' Jeph challenged his friend, the tip of his cigarette glued to his lips, the ashes falling to the floor as he spoke.

'I know how it's done, Jeph, please,' John laughed.

'Mind those ashes, boy. I just cleaned the kitchen,' Mrs Bates scolded and Jeph immediately threw the cigarette out of the window.

Done…' he said. 'Come on! Don't you miss the sea? I know you loved sailing when you were a boy, I was there with you!'

'I don't know…' John looked over at Anna, almost as if asking her for permission.

'You decide…' she told him, folding some baby clothes on top of the kitchen table, and trying not to impose herself too much. 'It does look quite windy today.'

'Not too much, we've had worse,' Jeph insisted.

'I have work to do. I have to send last week's records to Mr-'

'Oh come on, John, you spoil sport!'

It took him a moment to decide, but the smell of the salty breeze and the sound of the waves in the distance made him crave it, for reasons he didn't really know how to explain. He had liked sailing yes, but lately he found the comfort of land so much more desiring.

'All right...I'll go,' he said at once, and Jeph clapped his hands together in victory. 'Next time invite me when the weather is good.'

'It's more fun when the weather's bad, and you know it!'

All of the sudden John found himself inside Jeph's boat. The nets filled with fish, seagulls were flying above their heads, the sea in tune with their wishes. The waves crashed against the boats, spilling foam and salt over their faces and clothes. Rough skins marked by wind and sun, knotty hair and calloused hands. John had once dreamed of all this. A life at sea, an ocean of experience. Wife and children waiting at home, praying for a safe return. But he found his place on land instead, and now, he knew that's where he belonged.

'Hold on!'

He heard from one of the other boats, and when he turned around, he saw the waves crashing on them. Fiercely, without mercy. One man fell overboard, the others had to hold on for dear life. He felt a hand on his shoulder then.

'John! Hold on, John! We're going back home, look!' Jeph pointed ahead of them and what John saw was a threatening, dark storm, approaching on the horizon. There was lightning, and the sound of thunder...the sea had turned against them. The waves charged at them, seagulls cried overhead. A friend with two faces; one so kind, another so mortal.

'Turn around, to land! Let's get out of here!'

He didn't know who spoke anymore. One of the boats vanished out of sight, swallowed without mercy.

'Jeph!' John called. 'Turner is gone!'

'Pull 'em out, pull 'em out!'

Turner's men swam as hard as they could, trying to reach for the other boats, but the tide was too strong, pulling them to open sea. It was strange, so very strange. He felt urgency running through his veins, the need to help, to move, but he seemed frozen in time.

'Throw the rope at 'em! Quick, quick! Come on, lads!'

'Jeph, be careful!'

Another wave, higher than their boat, shook them violently. John tried to hold onto the mast with one hand, as he reached out for Jeph with the other, but cold sweat and water made his friend's fingers to slip away from his grasp, and in a second Jeph was out of sight. John cried out his name, and for Phillip and Victor and a couple more, but his strength would succumb when another wave came and rolled the boat within itself. The last thing he would remember was the painful bump of his head against wood, and his lungs beginning to shut down...life slipping away...

It started raining then, but he didn't know that. He was sinking, there were broken pieces of boat around him, men too. Dizzy and confused, he slowly opened his eyes under water, but he didn't have the will to do more than that; there was blood around him, he didn't know it came from his head.

Then, through the deep darkness of the sea, in that place where you can't see beyond, where light begins to fade into a daunting deep blackness, he saw a shadow, darker than the dark, swimming gracefully toward him.

' _...the fishermen were at sea, and it came quite suddenly, the sky turning as dark as night and the waves almost as high as the cliffs. Death was certain, really, they knew it and they were ready to take it, but then, they saw it... the blue whale, swimming around them, embracing the storm as if it was nothing….'_

And it flashed before him; his life. Only the good things he had lived, the moments he wanted to live a million times more. But here, he found nothing but cold and emptiness and his friends sinking with him. He faced Duncan, _the_ blue whale, swimming so close, looking at him with cold, fierce eyes.

' _Wake up, John Bates,'_ the Whale told him. ' _It's not your day to die.'_

 **x**

'John?! Wake up!'

He was being shaken the second after, the voice of his wife coming to his ears.

'Anna?' He opened his eyes at one, facing her. 'Anna…'

'You gave me a fright, John.' Anna took a deep breath, hovering over him. 'I thought you wouldn't wake up.' She brought one hand to his forehead, gently wiping some cold sweat away from his brow. 'What's wrong?'

'A nightmare,' he sighed, closing his eyes to her touch. 'A stupid nightmare.'

'Tell me?'

'I...there was a storm and I...I was at sea with them and the storm...it seemed so real.'

'It was only a nightmare,' she assured him. 'Everything's all right.'

'I'm sorry I scared you.'

Anna smiled down at him, her hand travelling back to his chest. 'Do you want water or-'

'No, I want you here with me.' He breathed in, looking deep into her eyes. 'I want you.'

His words made her shiver. The tone had been promising, daring, bold. He held her hand in his and brought it to his lips, kissing her knuckles; his look focused on her face.

'I miss you,' John whispered. 'So much. Don't you miss me?'

Her reply wouldn't be words, instead, she kissed him amidst the gentle darkness of the night. The curtains were opened, the sky clear, the moon shining onto the cold, harsh ocean. They were shadows in fiery passion, covered by bedsheets; silent for there was a baby sleeping just across the room. Still, sometimes in silence there's more said, more felt and lived, and between warm hands and sweat and tangled limbs, they loved each other as intensely as before.

'This last month seemed more like a year,' Anna spoke, muffling a cry, as one of John's hand travelled down to where their bodies met.

'It was more...than...a month.' He replied, trying to find the right words to say, but his thoughts were clothed by her own sounds, her own responses, the two of them moving together as one. It wouldn't take long until his thrusts became more and more erratic, his control spilling over the edge. There was only so much a man could take, especially when his wife whispered encouraging words against his skin.

She loved him, she wanted him, he felt so good, he was wonderful. He drove her to the point of no return.

Soon, her body was shaking, and to stop herself from moaning aloud, she wrapped her legs around his middle, her arms over his neck and bit his shoulder as softly as she could process; not soft enough, as they would both find the next day. And for John, his end came not long after hers, giving in to what he had tried to control for sometime now. He muffled his cried against the skin of her neck and into her pillow, and he stayed there, breathing in fabric, hair and sweat for a few seconds before he could mutter the strength he needed to turn over and hold her in his arms.

And now, he laid on his back, Anna's limbs tangled around him and her soft breathing tickling his chest. But not even that soothed him. He would always fall into a sort of an unconscious state after making love, recovering from all the ecstatic sensations they had shared...not tonight.

He looked toward the window, and the sun was still far from rising. The clock showed _4.27. am._

Slowly, he untangled from within her grasp, grabbed the typing machine and paper, and made his way to the kitchen, where he sat at the table. That night he would write all but two of the final pages of his book; those he would leave and return to in one year's time. And when morning came, Anna found him sleeping over his papers; glasses cast aside, a mug of tea that had turned cold. He woke up at once, when she touched his shoulder and piled what he had written as quickly as he could, telling her she would have the chance to read it all soon enough.

She was patient, she said, and in that moment Mrs Bates came in the kitchen ready to make breakfast and start the day.

 **xxxx**

'You should come with us! After all, you're in charge of the business, you should know how stuff is done.' Jeph challenged his friend, the tip of the cigarette glued to his lips and the ashes falling to the floor as he spoke.

'I know how it's done, Jeph, please,' John laughed.

'Mind those ashes, boy. I just cleaned the kitchen,' Mrs Bates scolded and Jeph immediately threw the cigarette out of the window.

'Done…' he said. 'Come on! Don't you miss the sea? I know you loved sailing when you were a boy, I was there with you!'

'I don't know…' John looked over at Anna, almost as if asking her for permission, and for a moment he felt a dizzy feeling of deja-vu taking over. Gosh, he hated when that happened.

'You decide…' she told him, folding some baby clothes on top of the kitchen table, and trying not to impose herself too much. 'It does look quite windy today.'

'Not too much, we've had worse.' Jeph insisted tapping on John's shoulder. 'What's wrong? You're as pale as a maiden.'

'Nothing, it's just…' He looked around, trying to understand why this all sounded so familiar to him, and the bad thing about dreams...premonitions, is that they are easily forgotten. One only remembers _it_ when _it_ happens, and only then, one ties the loose ends. 'I have work to do. I have to send the last counting of fish to Mr-'

'Oh come on, John, you spoil sport!'

'Another day, Jeph. I promise you, when the weather improves I'll go with you.'

His friend shrugged his shoulders, giving in to John's will. 'All right, all right...but you are coming soon, whether you want it or not,' he laughed, tapping John's shoulder once again. 'Better get going before it's too late.'

'Are you all right, John?' Anna asked him, putting the baby clothes away. 'You do look rather pale.'

'I'm having this odd feeling,' he gestured. 'That this day has happened before.'

'I know it won't happen ever again if Jeph keeps coming in my kitchen and spilling those bloody cigarette ashes everywhere.' Mrs Bates rolled her eyes, sweeping some of the remains from the floor. 'Reade wouldn't allow this, he wouldn't.'

Anna smiled at the old woman's words before turning to John again. 'Maybe you dreamed about it.'

And then it hit him. That's exactly what happened. 'That's it! I dreamed about this last night…'

'You did?' Mrs Bates asked, furrowing. 'Now that's odd.'

'Yes, the nightmare I had-'

'You dreamed about a storm and you being at sea when it happened,' Anna reasoned.

'Oh my!' the old woman gasped. 'But then...dreaming of death means life anyway.'

'Yes but...in my dream I went with Jeph, and now I didn't.' John spoke and his mother shrugged her shoulders.

'It's not the same then,' she said, but her John wasn't too sure about that.

'What?' Anna eyed him. 'Since when are you superstitious, Mr Bates?'

'I don't know…I mean, I'm not but then...my dreams, they can be rather revealing sometimes.' He smiled at his wife, remembering the many times he dreamed of her when he was at war. Rather reliving, indeed.

'If it makes you feel better, go after him and tell him not to go, if you can still catch them,' Anna said.

'Should I?'

'If it makes you feel better…'

'Run like the wind and you'll be there before they set to sea,' Mrs Bates chuckled. 'They always take some time preparing the boats and such.'

'All right, I'll do that.' He kissed the top of Anna's head, his mother's cheek, and ran out of the kitchen as fast as he could.

When he arrived at the docks, the fishermen were just setting off to the sea.

'Changed your mind, hm?' Jeph laughed.

'No, I just…' John looked to the horizon. 'Those clouds...the wind. Maybe you shouldn't go? It might storm later.'

Jeph looked at the sky. 'Nonsense. It will hold 'till the morning, and we will be home before the sun sets anyway.'

'Jeph-'

'Gotta go now, there's no time to lose.'

John remained silent watching the men sailing out. What was he to tell them? He had had a nightmare? These men believed in many things; haunted houses, lucky Whales, magic caves and rock...now dreams?

They would learn to do so the hard way.

* * *

 _ **Next Chapter:** In the aftermath..._

 ** _Thank you for reading :)_**


	26. Aftermath

**A/N:** _Good evening everyone! It's been a long time, I know, and this may be a shock to those of you who love this fic but...this is the last chapter. If I could, I would write this fic forever, but I don't want to drag it to the point of no (good) return. I want to finish it in the right moment and I think this is it. I wasn't sure at first, I was counting with, at least, two more chapters, but after writing this one I knew it would be the last. There will be an epilogue though, of course :)_

 _I want to thank all of you for the support, for you faves, follows and reviews, it's been an amazing journey and I'm so glad I was able to finish another multi-chapter (since when I began to write I told myself I would only be writing one shots xD) Multi chapters are my life now!_

 _I also want, and need, to thank my wonderful Beta, friend, fics mate, a wonderful bunch of etcs, **Terriejane**. She's amazing guys, she really is. She has the best ideas ever! I wouldn't be able to do this without her :D Thank you, **Terrie** , you the best! xXx _

_I hope you all enjoy this chapter. I will miss these characters so much!_

 _ **Disclaimer:** Same as chapter 1-25. _

* * *

**\- Aftermath -**

'We saw him…' Jeph shivered, feeling the heat of the fireplace warming his frozen skin; the mug of tea in his hands helping with the job. It had been a nightmare. A too near death experience. Too near, too real, too felt. They all had survived.

'We saw Duncan, he was there,' he continued, looking at the fire with distant eyes. 'He was there…'

Near death experiences take a tool on people, more than those who only watch can imagine. Some think of them lucky enough, others too lucky. For Jeph it had been a third chance at life...a third too painful chance.

'Drink your tea, son. It will make you feel better.' Mrs Bates patted his back softly, encouraging him, her eyes drying after a moment of tears.

News had travelled fast earlier that day, the wind and rain had brought them. Ernest had knocked loudly at the kitchen door, his eyes filled with tears.

 _'Mrs Bates! Mrs Bates! They are all dying at the sea, Mrs Bates! They are all dyin'! My dad, Mrs Bates! My dad!'_

' _What?! Where's John?' The old woman had asked, only for the same question to be repeated by Anna, who came running down the stairs after hearing the noise._

' _Where's Mr Bates, Ernest?'_

' _He's got on boat with the others, to help them. They are trying to save them.'_

 _With that, the boy had ran, shouting as much as he could, for every soul to hear and come help. 'Help! Help! They are drowning!'_

'Saw my children before my eyes, I did,' Jeph continued. 'Every single one of them...poor souls. We were going to be dead,' He took a long sip of steamy chamomile tea. His face was pale, his lips blue. It would take the fishermen days to feel warm and safe again; days, weeks, maybe even years. Healing comes at a difference pace for different people. 'And then he swims to us and the tide starts easing...we started being dragged to coast...and then I hear people shouting, I see the old guard boat, and I felt myself being pulled out of them icy waters.'

'No one died, that's what matters.' John said, his own mug of tea empty now, his clothes damp against his skin and a towel around him. The waves crashing against the small guard boat and rain had been freezing, but no worse than the feeling of watching his friends drowning. They had been six men, those brave enough to venture to the same place where others could be dying, and with floats and ropes they had managed to take them all out; because of the change of tide, they didn't need to venture further out to sea.

'The boats though, they're lost.' Jeph brought his hands to his head in despair.

'Don't worry about them! Your lives are far more important,' Mrs Bates stated, teasing the fire to burn stronger. Outside the wind had calmed down, but the rain still hit strongly against the window panes.

'And we have insurance now, remember?' John said. 'We're a company.'

'Hope so. That's our life, not our _lives_ but our money, our food, our clothes. We support our family with those boats.'

'And Mr Helmer will take that into consideration, I promise.' John assured.

Mrs Bates took the tray with the teapot back to the kitchen for a refill, and in that moment John realised that Anna wasn't there with them anymore. She had been when they arrived, making sure he had returned home safe and sound. It was strange that she had left without saying anything...

'I'm glad the children are in school…' Jeph took a deep breath. 'I couldn't bare for them to see me half dead.'

'Jeph...I'm going to my room to change,' John said, oblivious of his friend's words. 'I'll get you some clothes too, stay there.'

 **xxxx**

'Shhh...!' Anna voiced softly as he came in the room, leaning into Reade's cot and swinging it gently. 'He's sleeping, it took me some time to settle him.'

'Really?' John asked, surprised, approaching her from behind to take a peek at their son. 'He usually sleeps fast.'

'Not this time,' she replied shortly without turning to look at him. There was something wrong, he could feel it.

'Whatever is the matter?' he asked, placing a hand on her shoulder, that she was quick to brush off.

'Nothing…'

John managed a weak smile, not wanting to give into worry just yet. 'Father used to say when a woman says it's nothing she means exactly the opposite.' He chuckled, but his words didn't seem to prove much effect. 'Anna?'

'I'm upset,' she said.

'Why?' He placed his hand on her shoulder again, and with that, Anna turned abruptly to face him.

'Because you couldn't have been more reckless…' She spoke, trying to keep her voice down, but he could hear all the heaviness about it.

'What do you mean?'

'Sailing on that sea in that storm... ' Anna shook her head, walking toward the other side of the room. 'What were you thinking?'

'I wasn't the only-'

'I don't care. There could be a thousand people in those waters, but not you. What if that boat had ended like the others?!'

'Anna,' he pleaded, walking to her, and when she looked up at him again, he saw tears in her eyes.

'You have a son,' she answered. 'Didn't you think about us for a moment?'

'I have two sons...and you're being unfair,' John told her and she shot him a scolding look. He wouldn't have any of it, not when he felt so right about it. 'All those we helped have families too. If we would all think like that they would have drowned.'

She began to cry then, facing the window and the sea ahead. He reached for her then, and immediately she fell into his embrace.

'Anna? What's wrong, love?'

'I want Reade to grow up with a father,' she cried against his chest, her voice muffled on the fabric of his damp jumper; Anna didn't even realise how cold he was. 'I won't raise another fatherless child. I won't.'

'Don't be silly…' he whispered into her hair. 'I'm here, aren't I? Everything's all right.'

'It doesn't matter,' she sniffled, looking up at him. 'I'm still upset. When Ernest told us you were there... I couldn't think of anything else. I know I'm probably being selfish and stupid and unfair, but I don't care.'

'Come on, don't be so stubborn.' He held her face between his hands, smiling surely at her. 'I'm sorry, and I understand, but listen, wouldn't you have done the same?'

She pouted.

'You would. I know it. You are more selfless than I am.'

'You are freezing, John.' Anna told him at last, when reason came to her again. She ran her hands up and down his chest, trying to warm him up.

'I came to change, and to get some dry clothes for Jeph...when I was met with all this…' He chuckled, cocking his brow at her. 'I was afraid for a moment, I feared for my life more than anything when you gave me that look.'

'Stop it.' She smacked him across the chest.

'Honestly.'

'Take everything off, I'll fetch you clean clothes, for you and Jeph too.'

'Thank you,' John said, taking his jumper off. 'You're still upset?'

'Yes.' Anna replied, as she kneeled on the floor to take some warm clothes from the bottom drawer of their wardrobe, but she wasn't anymore, not really. Honestly, she had never been, it had been fear, panic and anxiety. Losing John would kill her. Living without him was an unbearable thought.

'You can't be upset, not with me,' John said with a soft voice, trying to make her feel sorry for him. He took off his trousers next, his socks, his shirt and underwear; everything was damp and he knew her eyes were on him, he could feel them.

'Whyever not?' she challenged him, placing the clean clothes on the bed and sitting down, her gaze roaming over his body; he smiled at her and she did the same.

'Because...we're never upset with each other.' he told her, pulling on his underwear.

Anna rolled her eyes, suppressing a grin. 'Only because I don't tell you.'

'What?' He grimaced in shock. 'When did you ever get upset with me before?'

'Dirty socks on the bed, the window open when it's raining, when you say you have more laundry right after I wash everything...so on, so on.'

'Come on. That's doesn't count,' he shook his head.

'Of course it does! Counts a lot when I have to take your smelly socks out of the room.'

'Smelly socks? Never!' He held her by the middle, trying to tickle her.

'No, John! Reade is sleeping, please.' He stopped then, placing a sweet kiss on her cheek. 'Just get dressed before you catch a cold, and take these to Jeph. He must be freezing. I have nappies to wash.'

John nodded before she left, and quickly he put on the rest of his clothes. He picked up the ones he would lend to Jeph, but before he left the room, he heard his son whimpering in the cot.

'Oh, what's the matter, son?' he asked gently, placing the clothes back on the bed and walking to the wooden crib. 'You're upset too? Don't…' He took the baby in his arms, rocking him in a soothing rhythm. He whispered then, 'Don't be. Look at you…'

Reade's fists grabbed at the air, his eyes were on his father's; eyes that held his mother's soul. But his smile was John's. His red hair as fiery as a flaming ember, his wisdom he would take from his grandmother's stories and tales, from her expressions and experience. A whole family in a child; their future.

'You are growing so fast, so strong, son. I'm sorry...I didn't think, but, I think if you could understand you would. I love you so much, hm? So much.'

The babe was fast asleep, his father's voice was so calming, always so caring.

 **xxxx**

'Johnny! Run faster, faster!'

Johnny did as he was told, looking back now and then to see if he was following the directions well enough. In his hands, a string that lead to a beautiful and colourful kite, made by John and him. It was red, blue and yellow, with a tail made of old soft, orange and white rags; the pride of the boy's eyes.

Watching on the beach, sitting on the warm sand under an afternoon sun in June, were John, Anna and Reade, who giggled out loud watching his brother have all the fun; his little hands clapping with much energy.

'Clap, clap, good boy,' John encourage the little boy sitting between his legs. 'Cheer on your brother.'

'Soon enough he'll be running after Johnny,' Anna sighed happily, running a hand through Reade's curly red hair, brushing away some locks off his forehead.

'He sure will.'

'Look, look!' Johnny shouted in the distance. 'My kite is flying so high!' They smiled to the boy, waving at his success. 'Best kite ever made!'

'There's something…' John spoke after a moment, Reade now venturing in the sand, crawling ever so eagerly toward a seagull, that was fast to fly away from the baby's reach. 'My book is almost finished.'

'Really!' Anna gasped in surprised. 'Goodness, that's wonderful!'

John nodded, bringing one arm around her shoulders. 'There's only a few pages left to write, but I won't write them just yet.'

'And why not?' she asked, leaning into his embrace. In the distance, Johnny was running back to them, just a few meters away, Reade sat up, pointing toward the slow waves; low tide, peaceful breeze, a perfect Summer day.

'I don't think it's the right time yet. But I would like you to read what I have.'

'You said I could only read it when you were finished,' she teased him.

'In a way, I am,' he tightened his embrace around her. 'And I need to know if it's good.'

'I'm sure it is. And in a way it is? How does that work, Mr Bates?' John felt her chuckling.

'I want, one day, to be able to leave the fishing business,' he said, avoiding answering her question. 'To occupy myself entirely with my writing.'

'I thought you liked the business.'

'I like writing more. I don't know...for some reason I have a good feeling about this new book.'

'Did you see?!' Johnny reached them huffing and puffing from all the previous running. The kite, he carried sacredly in his hands, as if it was something worth all the tea in China. 'This is the best kite ever made, Dad!'

'You helped me! How could it not be?' John smiled to the boy, mussing with the cap on his head. 'Just promise me you won't let it be eaten by trees.'

'I won't, Dad! I promise.' With that the boy placed his precious toy besides the couple, telling them to keep an eye on it, before turning to his brother. 'Reade, I'll teach you how to make a castle in the sand.' But every time Johnny had a good amount of sand, his brother would be fast in destroying the pile, followed by laughter and clapping. 'Reade…no.'

'You didn't answer my question…' Anna insisted, watching her boys playing together. 'How does the, _in a way it's finished_ , work?'

'Well...I have to wait for…' John tried to think of a good word to use.

'For what? What's it about?'

'Well, it's about you,' he replied, looking over at her.

'Me?'

'About a dream…and you…and us.'

She shot him a puzzled look, and he wouldn't tell her anything else. She would have to read it, and wait. Stories work that way.

' _They say dreams are unconscious thoughts, desires, moments already lived, explained by our_ _subconscious_ _, but what if a dream is more than that? What if a dream was what was yet to happen? What if a dream is what life is planning for you?_

 _She was there one dark night, and he was dying. She was there, and she spoke to him, and because of that, he survived. He survived because he knew life had something better waiting. He survived because he knew she was waiting for him. At home. In his home, she was already waiting for him.'_

 **xxxx**

He tossed the stack of paper on the kitchen table with a victorious smile on his face. It was late November. Christmas approaching, house decorated, snow falling softly outside. Anna sat at the same table sewing the back of Johnny's trousers, ripped after so much rolling down the hill during the late days of Autumn. Mrs Bates, as usual, stood by the stove, the smell of meat pie and baked apples filling the air. Their home never smelt of anything but food and washed clothes. The smell of family and life.

'Did you finish it?!' she asked him in awe, upon seeing the familiar sheets before her eyes. For the past couple of weeks, John had started working on his final pages, lulling her to sleep with the sound of typing through the night. A sound she much enjoyed, a sound she would never grow tired of.

'I did!' he breathed deeply, resting his hands on his hips. 'Finally.'

'Thank the Lord! Now you can sleep,' his mother said, checking the simmering apples, topped with cinnamon and honey.

'I can't wait to read it all together, I'm sure the ending is as good as the rest.' Anna smiled at her husband, putting aside her mending.

'You already know how it ends,' he said, leaning onto her shoulder and placing a seducing kiss on her neck. 'It ends here. Forever in the land of real dreams.'

His words made her shiver emotively. They made perfect sense to her, and Anna couldn't help but smile lovingly at the last pages of his book. She touched them softly, eager to read every single one of them. A life told in prose, as if it was nothing but an old tale of two lovers who knew each other before they met. Their story.

'What a soft puddle, sometimes I think you came out of one of those latin romances.'

John shook his head and Anna couldn't help but giggle at her mother in law's words.

'I guess that's what I liked about your father...hmm...he was such a sweet mouthed beggar. Caught me up with 'em, he did. Love this, love that, every minute without you feels like a thousand years of desert and thirst. Oh, I did love that.'

'Oh, there he is!' John cheered as he saw his baby son walking into the kitchen, followed by faithful Macbeth. In his hands he carried a boat toy, his little steps still tentative and a bit unsure. But Reade Bates was an adventurer, and every time he fell, he would rise stronger and more determined than ever.

'Dada!' the little boy squealed, reaching out for his father, who immediately took him in his arms.

'Come here, lad. Have you been playing with Macbeth?'

'He loves to crawl up and down that hall with the dog. It's an endless game for the two,' Mrs Bates said.

'He's waiting for Johnny to come back from school. Aren't you, love?' Anna spoke, as John sat with the boy next to her.

'Honny!' Reade tried his best to say his brother's name.

'That's right, you clever boy. Johnny.'

'Boat...boat!' The little boy continued with his displays of words, hitting his boat toy on the table. 'Boat!'

'That babe is going to be a sailor, mark my words,' Mrs Bates stated from the stove.

'A fisherman, maybe,' John wondered.

'Oh no, he'll be someone grand. I'm sure of it. They both will, our boys,' the old woman said decisively, turning off the oven at once. Dinner was done, now they had to wait for the night to eat it.

'Oh look,' Anna pointed out of the window; Johnny was walking home chaperoned by Jeph. 'Look who's coming, Reade.'

'Honny!' Reade opened his eyes wide upon the sight of his brother outside, his lips turning into a big, welcoming smile. As soon as he heard Johnny's voice, saying goodbye to Jeph, the boy fussed energetically on his father's arms. 'Down, down,' he demanded and when John put him down, the little boy crawled full speed to his brother, and Johnny couldn't do any less than take him in his arms.

'Did you miss me, Reade? I missed you too.'

 **X**

Dinnertime fast approached, and Mrs Bates pie looked delicious, on display in the middle of the table. John sat at the head seat, memories would never be anything but short there. It reminded him of his father, of his respectful presence, of his words always so right, so timed. It reminded him of the happy days of his childhood, of laughter and the future ahead. He was there now, in the future, one that could have never been imagined before, and for that, this place meant so much more than replacement. It meant a new life, continuation. That circle of life that everyone talks about. Children replace parents, and so on, as it should be. And among all the feelings that would wash over his silence, he found this seat to be the happiest one: his wife at his right, Reade in the middle of them in a high chair, Johnny next to Anna, and at his left, his dear mother.

'I want to be a sailor one day, Dad. Can I be a sailor?' the older boy asked, eyeing with excitement the big slice of pie Anna was placing on his plate.

'I thought you wanted to be a writer,' John smiled.

'Hmmm...I want to be a writer sailor. I can write about my adventures at sea. Reade and I, can. He'll be a sailor too,' the boy stated.

'I do believe he's going to be one, yes,' Anna nodded, cutting little pieces of pie to give to Reade to eat.

'I'm sure...and you'll know you are home when you see our old lighthouse in the horizon,' John said, chuckling as he saw his baby son spitting out some of the food. Meals had never been so interesting, and messy, since the little redhead had began to eat.

'That was the first thing I saw when I arrived here. Boats didn't dock where they do now, it was at this side of the Isle,' Mrs Bates remembered.

'I didn't know that,' Anna said.

'Oh yes, and those fancy ferries didn't exist either, it was more like the boats they use for fishing. Things here were really old. I just hope the lighthouse will always be here...it means so much more than just an old building.'

 **x**

' _To some it's just concrete, to others a memory._

 _That lighthouse was more than tall walls and stairs. It was a life lived and so much more yet to come. It was a mark, a port. Shelter from restless journeys. It had served its purpose but in a way, its true meaning was just beginning. Sometimes it's a photograph, a pair of earrings, a necklace worn for many years...for this family that's what it was. A memory, a relique, a treasure they only knew about. The treasure that made them what they all are today._

 _And ahead, the sea. Seducing, ravaging sea._

 _To get lost in its sounds, feel the sand beneath your feet, admire its beautiful from the safety of land, road of waves, the feeling of freedom. I love the sea. I love life. And above all, I love this piece of Land that I call home, green surrounded by an endless blue and white. By love and togetherness, by every single one of us. Certainty amongst adventure. I hope I live to see it all._

 **x**

One writer and one sailor; Johnny had guessed. A poet and a captain, bound to travel together. Half blood, same spirit. This Isle would see this family grow...always, forever.

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 _ **Epilogue:** Publishing of John's book. _

**_Thank you all for reading :)_**


	27. Coming Home Again - Epilogue

_**A/N:** Hello everyone! It's been such a long time! I can hardly believe I'm actually posting the epilogue for this fic. I'm so sorry for the delay but I have a hard time saying goodbye to my stories. I want the final chapters to be perfect and then I always feel like they are not. To me, that's the most difficult part of writing, to give your characters a good conclusion, if you know what I mean. _

_I'll miss this story so much. The characters, the place... It was one of my favourite things to write, ever, and it will always have a special place in my heart. But life goes on and stories too xD and there will be new ones for you to look forward to! I may be slow but I'll continue to write and ideas just keep coming to me. See you around in other fics, future and in progress ones._

 _Thank you all for your support, reviews, follows and faves. They mean so, so much. And a big, BIG, thank you to my wonderful, super cool Beta, **Terriejane**! Oh, she puts up with so much, you wouldn't believe xD That's why she's the best! She's also the best writing partner I could ever ask for. Thank you, love xXx For everything._

 _Hope you enjoy this little Epilogue and the place where I left this beautiful family :) After all, their life is just beginning ;)_

 _ **Disclaimer:** Same as chapter 1-26._

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 **\- Coming Home... Again -**

'Are you sure you want to take the boys? I can stay with them.'

'Nonsense!' Anna exclaimed as she helped Mrs Bates setting the table for breakfast. 'We are all going. I know you want to, more than anything.'

'Well, I do,' the old woman chuckled happily. Boiled eggs and toast done. Only tea was missing. Oh! And John's coffee, of course.

Days in this house began exceptionally early nowadays, with a little boy who seemed eager to live life, as soon as the sun shone its first ray. No one slept after that. He made sure to let everyone know that sleeping was a waste of time, especially during the beautiful Spring weather.

'Mummy, mummy! My boat!' It was him, Reade Bates, who spoke next. He walked into the kitchen with a worried frown, trying to remember when he had last seen his precious boat toy. It was rare the times he left it somewhere.

'It's here, love, don't need to fuss about it.' Anna handed him the toy, after finding it on the floor just minutes before. 'Now, why don't you go call your brother, hm? Breakfast ready.'

'Johnny, Johnny! Come, come, come!'

'Oh, he loves his brother. It's a sweet thing to witness.' The proud grandmother spoke as she watched Reade running as fast as his little chubby legs allowed him through the hall. The boy then stood at the bottom of the stairs, knowing well enough his mother didn't like him climbing them alone, and shouting for his beloved brother to come down.

'He does. I think he could live without any of us but Johnny.' Anna smiled tenderly, before poking her head out of the kitchen window. 'John? Breakfast's ready!'

Not a minute later, the two missing members of the family came running upon the call.

'Good! I'm starving,' John said, rubbing his stomach, before placing a kiss on his wife's temple. 'That garden needs more attention. I'll have to spend sometime there if we want to grow anything.'

'I can help you!' Johnny remarked, sitting at the table. 'And I want two eggs today!'

'Two eggs?' Mrs Bates chuckled. 'As if it's any different from any other day.'

'A lad has to eat, Mother. To grow big and strong.' John winked at the boy. 'And you, Reade? How many eggs today?'

The two year old looked down at his fingers, trying to figure out what number to offer. 'Eleven five,' he frowned.

'Eleven five?!' John laughed. 'All right then. Eleven five eggs for Reade, and I think I'll order the same.'

The two women smiled as they prepared the plates in the counter, finding it too endearing when John joined in the boys conversations and games, and particularly when they made up something quite far-fetched.

'So, are you nervous?' Anna asked, as she sat down at the table. Breakfast was served.

'Well…' John ran a hand along his hair. 'A little, yes. But I'll live.'

'So many people will come,' she told him, taking his hand with a reassuring smile. 'It'll be a success.'

'You know...I'd love it to be a success, of course. But what I really want is people to read it and feel good, feel hopeful. Even if it's just five of them.'

'I know. But they will,' Anna said.

'And way more than five people too!' Mrs Bates added.

'Eleven five,' Johnny voiced. 'Eleven five people will read it.'

'Well...that's a good number for me!'

They all laughed at the boy's words. Everyone but Reade, who wasn't quite grasping why his reply was so funny. His serious expression earned him a cheek squeeze from his father. It was going to be a long day for the family.

 **xxxx**

The place was crowed. It seemed like people from all over the Isle had come, along with contacts and old friends from the mainland. John was nervous, pacing, trying to welcome and make small talk to those of whom he hadn't seen in a long time. Among the guests, dressed in a black suit and beige hat, was Mr Helmer, his - soon not to be - business partner.

'It's an honour to be here, John. It's a lovely gathering. I didn't know the Isle of Mull had a castle.'

'What place in Great Britain doesn't have one?' John chuckled.

'Well, that is true.' Mr Helmer laughed. 'It's a grand place to hold an event like this. How did you manage?'

'I have my contacts, Mr Helmer,' John winked.

'I believe you do! It's a pity that you'll be leaving the business, but I reckon, Jeph is a good replacement.'

'The best, Mr Helmer, don't doubt about that. And he's a fisherman, knows a lot more than I do. Oh!' John pointed out to the entrance of the big hall. 'My family has just arrived. If you'll excuse me.'

'Hello there!' Anna was already smiling at him when he approached them; Reade in her arms fussing to be put down.

'Whoa! A real castle!' Johnny looked around, taking in everything his eyes could see.

'Anna…' John pulled her for a soft kiss, feeling relieved to see her there. He felt she gave him strength, courage and seeing her face amongst the crowd when the time for the speech came would be incredibly reassuring.

'Reade!' His son voiced in Anna's arms, crossing his eyes at their kiss, wanting to be included.

'Reade too, yes,' John smiled, placing a kiss on his son's forehead. 'And granny, and Johnny. Wow! Matching outfits? You are both rather dashing.'

Johnny gave a turn to show John his new clothes. Both boys were wearing dark brown blazers with navy shorts, matching caps and shoes with white knee length socks.

'Just like their daddy.' Anna grinned at her husband, running a hand along his suit jacket. 'So very handsome. It takes me back in time.'

'It really does,' he said softly, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles. Back to a time when they were just getting to know each other, and already so in love.

'Goodness me!' His mother's voice shook him from his memories. 'I didn't know there were so many people coming.'

'Neither did I. I knew more people than expected would, but not this many. I'm impressed,' he confessed, feeling even more nervous as he saw a new group arriving. 'There's a local paper too.'

'You shouldn't be so much...you're a wonderful writer,' Anna told him. 'You have more fans than you think.'

'Looks like it. Now, come here, lad.' John took the boy from Anna. 'Daddy wants to show you something. Come, Johnny. Let's go on an adventure!'

He placed Reade on the floor and the two boys began to run ahead of him, laughing as they did, and so excited about what their father had to showed them.

'He deserves all of this…' Anna sighed. 'I couldn't be happier. Did you see the look on his face? He's overjoyed, I hope he finally understands that I'm not the only person who reads his books.'

'He does… he has dreamed about this all his life,' Mrs Bates nodded with a proud grin. 'And just you wait until he knows about what you have to tell him. He'll be as dreamy as he can be.l,' she winked at her daughter in law.

'Yes, I'm sure he will,' Anna giggled, covering her mouth with one hand. A hand that dropped to her stomach, yet too small to be noticed. But soon it'd grow, and she couldn't wait for it.

 **xxxx**

'See...these openings here. That's where they used to shoot the arrows to the enemy. Like so, they weren't hit. How clever, hm?'

'Whoa!' Johnny exclaimed, looking out from one of the orifices. 'I can almost see our house from here!'

'Well, just almost.' John smiled.

'Poof, poof!' The older boy began to play, pretending to be shooting arrows at the enemy. Soon enough Reade joined.

'Poof, poof! Daddy, poof, poof!'

'Yes, that's exactly what they did.' he laughed when an hand on his shoulder made him jump.

'You have quite a crowd waiting for you.' It was his wife, smiling sweetly down at him.

'I know. I'm nervous.' John rubbed his hands together, letting go of a long sigh. 'So nervous. My palms are sweaty, I feel kind of cold but hot at the same time.'

'Don't be,' she said, caressing his cheek. 'You'll do great. I know it. You have a way with words, Mr Bates. You've always had.'

'I hope those words come to me when I have to speak them.'

'Speak from your heart and they will. That's how you stole my heart too.' She winked and he took her hands bringing them to his chest.

'I will...and I have since the day I knew you would be mine. Forever.'

'Daddy! Daddy, up!' Reade pulled at his trousers, demanding to be held.

'Can't you walk anymore?' He shot his son a look.

'No, no...up!'

With a chuckle, he picked the boy up, nuzzling him against his neck.

'You've spoiled him,' Anna shook her head. 'Now you have to live with it.'

'I gladly will,' he told her pulling Johnny to him, 'both of my boys.'

 **xxxx**

There was silence as John walked to the table where his books were on display - the expectancy was almost palpable. He cleared his throat and swallowed hard before looking at his wife, standing in the crowd. With a smile, he began;

'I'm very honoured to be here tonight, among friends. I'm not a man of many spoken words, I'm more a writer than anything else…' There were a few laughs and he immediately felt more comfortable, breaking the initial ice.

'So, I'm going to get right to the point. This book. _Coming Home_. The title says most of it, but, this Home is more than a particular place. This Home is a state of mind, of peace...a feeling. A feeling that makes every place you go feel like home. It travels with you, it's always present, and it was there even before it was found. We all have that home, as human beings, that place where our mind likes to travel in times where life is not so pleasant.' He took a deep breath, trying to form the right words to say. Looking up to the crowd, facing his nerves, and then his wife, smiling at him with encouraging eyes, he continued.

'This book is about finding that place and living in it at all times. To me, that place is love. Family. My wife. Who helped me understand what really matters in life, what's worth living for. For love, for my family, for our happiness, here or anywhere else. Luckily, the physical place of this feeling is this Isle, that brought me so much joy in the past and now. I returned here after a bad period in my life and here, they were already waiting for me. I hope you all enjoy this book and find it inspiring. To find that place you can call home, whether it's somewhere in the world, a feeling, something you like to do, or a person. In my case it was one person, and I know with her, I'll be _Home_ forever. Thank you.'

After an ovation the signing line began to form and for the first time John felt like his writing was something special. Something he could make for a living, like he had always dreamed of.

 **xxx**

'Let's watch the sunset. It's such a beautiful afternoon.' The four walked along the grass, later on after the event was over. Mrs Bates had gone home with Jeph and other neighbours. John wanted to show Anna and the boys this side of the Isle.

'We never been here before.' Anna voiced. 'It's beautiful.'

'I should have taken you before now,' John smiled. Reade, walking alongside them, was trying his best to keep up with their steps. 'But this Summer we'll be wandering this place a lot more, I promise.'

'I want to go on a boat! Those fishing ones.' Johnny begged jumping up and down. The younger boy mimicked his brother at once.

'Of course! You, me, Reade, mummy, granny-'

'And Macbeth!' Johnny added with a big smile.

'But of course,' John chuckled. 'Macbeth too. Let's sit down?'

'Sit down, darlings.' Anna told the boys, tapping the soft ground beside her. 'Reade, be careful...sit here next to mummy.'

'No! Johnny. I sit with Johnny.'

'It's all right, mummy,' Johnny nodded, placing one hand around his brother's shoulders. 'I'll take care of him.'

'Look, lads…' John pointed ahead and the two boys immediately focused on him. 'The ocean is still, the seagulls are looking for food...and we're here, on this piece of land, a mere drop in the middle of the sea, blessed by how lucky we are to have been given all the possibilities this Isle has to offer. We could have been born anywhere, we could have lived any kind of life, but we're here. Together.'

His words were gentle, mixing with the breeze, lulling everyone into a state of relaxation. Soon, his wife's head was resting on his shoulder and one of her hands came to his, entwining their fingers as they used to do when they were just getting to know each other.

'I wasn't born here.' Johnny remarked.

'You weren't but, destiny led you here, didn't it? If…' John looked over at Anna, kissing her temple before speaking again. 'If things had been any different, we wouldn't be here now.'

'Look!' Johnny then pointed out. 'Duncan!'

'Dun-?' Readed tried to repeat.

'Duncan. The lucky whale,' John said. 'It's good luck to spot it, son. I know now that story is true.' He smiled at Anna who was still leaning against him, enjoying the view and the feeling of being here, with her family, the warmth of her husband, the cheery happiness of her boys.

'You're lucky now too, Reade!' Johnny conclude. 'But…' the boy turned his nose, thinking deep about the matter. 'If we keep seeing him, what does it mean? Are we lucky all the times we see him or it just counts as one?'

'Well…' John wondered. 'You'll have to ask granny that. She'll know how to answer that.'

'I think, you're lucky every time you spot him,' Anna said, sitting up. 'It has been true ever since.'

'Oh, do you? Ever since?' John shot her a playful look. 'How so?'

'If you think having another child makes you a lucky man, that is...' she remarked, looking head, but with a delicious grin playing at the corner of her lips.

John frowned, confused. 'Of course it does, I- what did you say?'

With that, Anna looked down at her stomach, bringing one hand to caressed it over the fabric of her dress. 'Maybe this one will be the girl you always dreamed of, and me too.'

'What?' he asked her, his heart racing in his chest.

'Exactly what you heard, Mr Bates,' she smiled. 'There will be one more of us, again, by Christmas.'

'Oh, Anna!'

" _This was life. What he had always longed for. Family, peace, and the ocean in view. The elements before him. The rawness of human feelings. Her kisses, her love, the touch of her hands during the night. The smell of her hair on his pillow. His sons' laughter. The sounds of running children and a dog barking after them. His mother's cooking, the sound of a boiling kettle. Home was all this. The gathering of all these experiences to live and relive. Home was this. Family."_

'Anna? How much do you still love me?' He asked him sometime after, as they laid down on the grass while the boys played together just besides them. Her head on his chest, his arms around her, one hand playing with her golden locks. He had shed a few tears after the news she had given him, and now he was still trying to take it in, overjoyed, completely happy.

'How much do I still-? You still beggar.' She rolled her eyes. 'I love you more than I ever did! What about you?'

'Well…' Twenty years would pass and his grin would still be the same. A grin that she knew would make her love him even more. Impossibly so. 'I love you more than that,' he said.

A lifetime of good luck was just beginning. The new addiction would be named after Granny Bates.

 **The End**

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 **Thank you all for reading :)**


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